in a bubble
behind shaded windows, locked doors
stepped lightly on broken glass left behind
when her heart accepted the truth
that love hurt too deep
when her dream departed,
She lived with tears, breakdowns
pausing just long enough to fill her glass
with cheap boxed wine she bought
in bulk back in 1999.
She lived with 3 cats named
Oh, My and God
a dog named Orgy, a parakeet
who had special needs
or should I say, Hog,
was an alcoholic, needed whiskey everyday.
She lived next door to a 7-11
would venture out after dark
grab some nachos with extra cheese
always wore sunglasses, gaudy slippers
bought at K Mart, in 1973.
She lived most of her time
in a kitchen decorated in 1982
yucky yellow, with grease and smoke stains
where she drank two day old coffee
out of plastic disposable cups
so as to avoid aggravating her hip pain
having to do dishes.
She lived her last days online
never leaving comments, just likes
didn’t own a decent camera
so she had nothing to post
pretending to be a host.
She lived in her bubble
spent quality time going crazy
always complaining about a linoleum floor
installed in 1964, when she started listening to
The Beatles, instead of Hank.
She lived to hear mice chewing under her refrigerator
enjoyed watching her fish float to the top
wishing she had scuba gear to save them
from drowning, her worst fear.
She lived with a vivid imagination
wrote poetry that never rhymed
with her number two pencils she bought
at a local five and dime
most of the time wrote about her love
a ferret that was blind.
My aunt lived
to be my hero.