to my father's mother.

sometimes i wonder,
if the little cracks in your teeth meant that you were sick.
I wonder
why you always sat and stared
listlessly between my eyes
why, sometimes you trapped yourself
behind walls and sounds and the endless shuffling of
the red painted cards

i wonder,
if you saw me as a child,
or just the daughter of a blood sucking leech son
i wonder,
if you couldve been
the one that told me words of wisdom
if you couldve been
the one that sweetened up my childhood with
sprinkled kisses and mumbled prayers.
But you were ill. and we all never saw it.