No Destination (OG)

Dear Grandma,

You’ll never get this

Just like you haven’t received any letters for the past two years

So this is a letter to you, with no destination, forever stuck in this traffic jam I call my heart.

You were my favourite face, favourite relative, favourite comfort, favourite everything,

And then you left-

You didn’t tell me, you didn’t bother to say where you were going,

So, this is a letter to you, with no destination, forever stuck in the traffic jam I call my heart, waiting for the mailman to depart.

They tricked you

They used your illness against you and played you the same song, over and over and over again

Telling you that each time, it was a different song,

That each time, my fingers were hitting different pieces of ivory and ebony

That each time I had dedicated another piece to you

They say that elephant's tusks weigh 28 kilos,

But I think my heart weighs more,

Filled with too much sorrow and sadness that this letter cannot contain.

This letter to you, with no destination, forever stuck in this traffic jam I call my heart, waiting for the mailman to depart, but little does it know…

My family moved on.

Got the call,

Gave me a look of pity,

And moved on

My brothers and dad watched the livestream with me,

Watched my grandfather read my poem to a sea of black,

Watched my grandfather choke up on my beautiful words,

And moved on.

They watched my grandfather break down halfway through my poem,

They watched me stay up all night, looking into the pitch-black sky until midnight,

And they STILL

Moved

On

And yet here I am, writing you this letter with no destination, forever stuck in this traffic jam I call my heart, waiting for the mailman to depart, but little does it know, the mailman left, a long, long time ago.

As I try to add another stanza to this poem,

This letter,

That has come from so deep inside my shattered soul

My shattered soul, of which you and only you were keeping together but now you are gone.

And nothing in keeping it together

And everything I see through my eyes is black and white

And the only colour I do see is Peach, the same colour as her

And the only thing keeping my empty shell of a body moving is writing

Like this.

This letter to you that has no destination, forever stuck in this traffic jam I call my heart, waiting for the mailman to depart, but little does it know, the mailman left a long time ago

But, if I keep writing letters,

They will keep ending up in the mailbox,

And I will think of you every day

And as long as you are alive in my heart,

It doesn’t matter that this is a letter with no destination!

Because life is a journey - not a destination.