Grandmother

She looks at me with searching eyes,
but I look away, unable to meet her gaze.
When she's walking away,
I stare at her hunched back, her weak posture, her wrinkled skin.
Knowing I should've said something, but I never did.
Knowing I could be that person, but I never was.

I'm sorry

The words form their weight on my lips, but are never spoken.
Until she's gone.