funeral na torre

i woke up one morning
feeling death's arms all over me
like a mutant octopus.
i walked into my living room
and saw grandma there
staring at a blank window.
she'd asked me: "come here,
and put your head on my lap".
I rested my head on a pillow
on her shoulder
on a pile of dead leaves
on a broken doll's head.
she sang me a song, but i could hardly remember it
i was lost in the track of time
sleeping inside a tower clock
like a hunchback, but not of notre dame
but of my own fear
of my very own funeral
that nobody was watching
just a bunch of numbers, a pointer
and a silly promise of a new beginning.
words echoed from my grandma's voice:
"i hesitated, i hesitated".