The grass was overgrown,
And stubbornly fought
Against the clean sheet we layed
On it.
I made you paint,
And the floating haze in the air
Stung my eyes.
I knew something was wrong,
We all did.
We saw your emotions
Doing backflips
And pirouettes.
We saw your sleep
Running away from you,
We saw the music clouding up
Your thoughts
So they couldn't hurt you.
But none of us knew
How wrong it was.
I took two terra-cotta
Flower pots
In hand,
And declared it a lovely day.
You deemed it dismal.
I waltzed into the yard,
With bottles of bright paint,
And soft brushes.
I made you sit
In the oppressive sunshine,
With insects
Whizzing around our ears
To paint flower pots.
On a long dog walk at midnight,
You finally told me half of the truth.
That you were having problems.
The grass was still lively
And springy,
It was after the drought.
You dribbled paint
In pretty patterns,
And I tried to convince myself
This was good for you.
It was the small early hours
Of the morning,
Lit with fairy lights,
And your humidifier
Puffing in the corner,
That you told me the whole truth.
You had given yourself until September.
Printed an expiration date
On your forehead.
And I wish I could say
In that moment I knew what to do.
It's been a while now,
I'd like to think
I don't have to worry anymore,
But I do.
So in case I should,
I love you.
I love you,
And I promise to never make you
Sit in the sun
And paint again.