I call my grandma Nanny
She told me to call her that so she didn't feel old
But to me she never looked old
She looked about in her late fifties or early sixties to my young eyes
We laughed, we danced and read stories
And at bedtime she sang sweet lullaby's
I played dress up with her old clothes and jewelry sets
Her necklaces always dangled down my chest, because it didn't fit just yet
"I'll give this to you when you are grown," she always said
I'm now seventeen
And when I see Nanny it feels blue
I always remember the harsh words she threw
Calling me "useless," and saying that it's because of the phone
Though I was twelve and it made me feel less alone
I remember the times she commented on the food I ate
I can't eat food now without thinking about my weight
It's not her fault she made me feel this way
She was old, sick and could only see grey
But it now consumes me and it won't go away
It lives in my chest
Like the necklace that didn't fit just yet