My grandmother's dying.
And I can't breathe.
Hyperventilating.
As always.
Breathing faster and faster.
As if every breath I take is hers,
Hoping with all my heart
It wouldn't be her last.
Hoping she breaths many many more breaths
In the years to come.
Hoping she isn't that lady before me
Skin getting paler
And breath
Getting lighter.
But you see
The thing about hope
Is that it's a mirage for disappointment.
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