She Deserves It

Every time I pass mom's house it's a shaky memory of the broken piece of paper in my left jean jacket pocket. Grandma died a couple of years ago. Around that time was when mom left. She never found out about Grandmas death. No one thought she was important enough to know. I would want to know if my mother died. Sure she's self-conceed, egotistical, and gready, but she's my mom. I think that's why I want to give the letter to her so bad. As for as she knows we're continuing our lifes without her. Our better lives. She thinks Grandma still eats breakfast in her rocking chair every morning on the back porch as the sun slowly starts to surround her world. She still thinks I secretly have my boyfriend Jerry come visit me every Saturday. She still thinks everything's normal and okay. She deserves to know, but part of me wants her to never know. I want her to rot in the unknowingness she surrounded herself in, but no one would know if mom was rotting away herself. Dead on the floor in her crummy kitchen or something. I wouldn't know, and I would hate that. She deserves to know, but anyone else deserves to keep it from her. I deserve to keep it from her.

(I tried)