Where I came from

This, like most of my early poetry is about my amazing grandmother, Mimi, who passed away. Today is her birthday and this is written for her.

"Where I came from"
By Breanna Armstrong

This summer, I visited your hometown,
I met your best friend, she showed us around.
Walking the same steps that you once walked,
Left me choked up, I could hardly talk.

The walls in your room are now blue.
We have great leather couches in there now too,
Paint these walls, and leave the pain behind,
But you still fill each corner of my mind.

Your presence- it never left,
The final resting place of your last breath.
They say time can heal everything.
Well whoever that was must not have met me.

I think about you constantly, you’re always on my mind,
You raised a good girl and then left her behind.
I would tell you that you’re my hero, but I already have,
I told you this time and time again while holding your hand.

My flower, my delight, inspired by your life,
Your dedication to your family in the roughest of times.
After you left, I learned a lot about you,
Your hardships and the tough times that you went through.

How you turned out to be the rock that you are,
It surpasses all of my expectations by far.
See I’m like you, I have your spirit,
I went through losing you and now I can see it.

I’m the writer that I am because I wrote for you,
The contests I won, published because of what we went through.
My heart leapt out onto the page,
And now people read about our love story on a national stage.

I’m sorry that I have not written to you for a while,
I started picking up success through another style.
Over time, I tried to block you out,
But it’s impossible, you fill every crack of this house.

I try to make you proud as you watch from above,
I miss your safety, your embraces and love.
Just know, that I will never forget or let go too.
I’m everything that I am because of you.