Grandmother No. 1

sometimes I go walking for miles
through rivers of garbage running down the street,
leaves spilled like blood in the gutters;
everything is a memory of what I once loved.
ghosts are shining in the reflection of glass,
as if to say I killed them by dreaming out the window
there hasn't been a moment of my life
that you haven't also been alive for,
but now our Venn diagram relies only on me,
and everyone knows that I'm an a*****e

let's go walking for miles,
as though I were a child again
through fields and lakes and forests
through happiness and paper towels and even yesterday
because roads are overrated,
evenly spaced cracks only serve well for failures to fall through
once upon a time I saw the whole world hiding in a corner,
blaming everyone else for their pain
and I decided that when you died
I'd take your mirror
and watch the world from a different side