Voices cracking—mind racing
blank.
Old plants wilting 
in the living room.
Air
weighted down,
collapsing my lungs,
infecting my
whole body.

You were stolen 
out of the night,
not even 
a year
after our last loss.

Moving 
limply around
your home,
stumbling upon
the memories of my 
childhood—

today will always
be the day 
I lost my grandfather.