Not Enough Tape
A year ago
I was wrapping gifts in red ribbons
shaking bells around a Christmas fire
And using a half of a roll of tape per gift wrapped
Today, a year later I lay in bed
Bones and tissue fibers too weak to allow me to stand
It feels as though my own thoughts have managed
To tie knots around my feet
It was October 14th when your body decided to let you down
A colon infection?
That’s nothing, right?
Perfect heartbeat, perfect bloodwork
But your vitals played tricks on us
And on that hopeful afternoon
Every drip of hope I had left in my glass,
Was drained down the sink
The mother who adopted me,
Who braided my hair and fed me
Was gone before Christmas
Gone before I could tell her
I love you more than you know
This year I’ll be wrapping presents, coated in too much tape
Placing them under the same old PVC Christmas tree
Dreaming of your cozy sweaters and your red lipstick
On Christmas day
I guess I’ll have to wear red lipstick in your place
Merry Christmas, Mom