Patricia

I am scrubbing and vacuuming 

but the smell still stays 

I am washing and mopping 

but the smell still lingers 

I feel uneasy here. Anxious. 

As unsteady as the tremor in her fingers 

I know I’m supposed to be positive 

but it’s hard to be happy 

When she’s been sick so many times before.

Cancer, Parkinson’s, pacemaker, diabetes 

Every time I open the door 

She is halfway off the bed

Trying to runaway 

But her legs have already said goodbye

So they don’t do as she says 

Anymore 

In fact none of them do as she wants 

She is always shaking shaking shaking 

Slowly dying from the inside 

And her kids thinks she’s faking 

But I’ve seen it her beg God to die 

Its hard to watch her lose her mind