Jillian Jaroszewicz

Grade: 11

Bay Village High School

Instructor: Erin Beirne

13 Ways to Look at Grief

Poetry

13 Ways to Look at Grief

1. came back to get some of my stuff. your makeup is still all over the bathroom sink. an eyeshadow palette that has clearly been loved, and an overpriced lipstick whose shade is clearly recognizable as yours. but you're not going to use any of it. last night's mac and cheese is still in the fridge, but i don't think anyone will eat it.

2. i kind of hate you for dying. i kind of hate not being able to escape the condolences. i kind of hate myself for letting you die.

3. i think i killed my mother. if i had been there, if i had heard her, if i had helped her.

4. i've been laying on the couch for six days now. i cannot turn off the television, because if i do, i will think of you. i am terrified to fall asleep, because i will dream of you. i am scared to walk outside, because i will hear about you.

5. i think i've come to terms. you're not going to tell me any more stories, or laugh at any of my jokes. you're just dust. it's kind of weird that all you have to show for your life now is this stupid box of dust.

6. we had to clean out your house today. people took all your stuff. some people took my stuff too. they really just went crazy. i think that's also pretty weird. how one day you just die and then the next all people are concerned about is who's going to get your dresser.

7. i hate you again.

8. people say that everything happens for a reason, but i honestly think that's the dumbest thing i've ever heard in my life.

9. sometimes i have nightmares about you. i can imagine my phone call from the other end. the screaming. i'd never been so scared in my life. i didn't know my own address though, which was kind of funny.

10. even years later, i find myself writing every piece of poetry about you.

11. i miss you.

12. i hate you.

13. i love you.

Where'd All the Time Go?

Poetry

Where'd All the Time Go?

where'd all the time go?
four. goodbye puppy. i will miss your woof,
wet nose
white paws
will you remember me?

five. i know how to write my name and count to one hundred.
making friends has proven to be of greater difficulty.

six. i got a cat. she's a menace. she eats my hair and claws at my ankles;
i love her so much.
why do i adore this devilish little hairball?
i wonder if this is how new mothers feel about their meatloaf babies.

seven. my eyes are so heavy; how is ryan seacrest lulling me to sleep? the ball will drop
and all of my elementary struggles will be but a distant memory.

eight. i think that there is something peculiar about me.
i just love jennifer lawrence.
i don't think my friends at school feel the same. they all love zac efron. why do i feel this way?

nine. had a basketball game today. i don't really like basketball. scored a basket.
my father is proud of me, i think.

ten. goodbye mama. i will miss your embrace,
your sweet eyes and lovely smile.
please tell me you'll remember me.

eleven. christmas this year wasn't the same.
santa has changed.
i still miss you mama.
i asked santa if i could see you again.

twelve. i told my dad i didn't believe in god today.
he cried in the mexican restaurant.
if god was real, i would be with my mother.
she loved tacos.

thirteen. i've had a lot of time to ponder as of late.
am i good enough?
do i need to be more?
i think i've figured out why i like jlaw so much.

fourteen. i wish you were here.
dad doesn't know how a tampon works.

fifteen. i'm starting to think i might not know everything.
i really thought i loved a boy.
he really loved star wars.
i think we might not have been on the same page.

sixteen. alaskan daydream, i have encountered your beauty,
and in the process discovered my own.
i have grown to love you endlessly, even when you did not show me the same love.
the challenge you have presented me does not make me love you less.
maybe the same should be true about loving myself.