Begging

It's all over.

There's nothing left for me.

I lie in a bed,

Unmoving, unresponsive,

Awaiting the reaper.

You clutch memories;

Granny giving you baths,

Granny making cookies,

Granny kissing you goodnight,

And tears fall when it's suggested.

I want to die.

Granny cannot hug you.

Granny cannot kiss you,

Or sing you lullabies,

Or tell you stories.

Granny is a vegetable.

Vegetables are not happy.

Vegetables are the unwanted

Occupants of a dinner plate,

Kept solely by force.

No one wants the vegetables.

Let me die.

We have the same memories,

But we see them differently.

You see Granny as the best,

But I see a little child

That doesn't know Granny is gone.

I am not the woman who kissed you.

I am not the woman who bathed you.

I am not the woman who made cookies.

I am a vegetable,

Feeling everything afflicted on me.

So, please, just let me die.