I stand and watch as she's placed into the cold earth, dirt covering the mahogany box she's in. Thunder blares overhead as the sky darkens from ashy to pitch black.
The hole which is now completely filled gives the congregation permission to disperse before the sky tears apart and releases its tears - tears which I now start to shed.
I'm pulled away from the overturned patch of dirt and taken home.
Hours tick by and I find myself sitting in my room, staring at a blank wall, feeling empty. At some point I'm told to go to bed, which I do so in a mundane manner.
Laying in bed, the rain drums above me. I begin to think of the cemetery where my grandmother is six feet under and the flooding which is occurring in the street. My eyes close and I see her floating past me in her coffin-vessel, looking like a wax figurine.
Inhaling sharply, I open my eyes, forever wishing I could glue them ajar.
It was at that moment I decided I would never be buried in Florida.
YOU ARE READING
The Misfortunes of a Girl
PoetryThe real life feelings and thoughts of a girl whose been through everything and yet has barely lived her life. Ladies and gents, grab your tissues. You might need them. *WARNING* - This is a book of poetry, nearly all of which from when I'm depresse...
