♤A couple weeks before you left,
I caught you in the foyer staring
At your father's old clock on the wall-
Weeping, wobbling and whispering half drunk
"I want it back, give it back. I need it back"
I don't know if it was my heart
Or the seconds ticking by that
Echoed in my head as I tiptoed back to bed.

♡I used to call you
But eventually,
Even your machine got tired
They said it's best
I stop coming by,
You're comfortable
And they are content with that.
But how can you cling to the hospital bed
When I'm sleeping in ours alone?

♢There are places in this city
And rooms in our house
That I still can't go near.
I burned all your letters,
But keep the ashes in a vase on the mantle.
I heard it's easier to move on
If I pretend you're dead.
You're fifteen minutes away,
But the distance between us is so much more.

♧I had a dream last week
You came home for Christmas
There were dozens of cardboard boxes
Crowded under our tiny tree,
Each full of broken clock hands
And shredded envelopes
All addressed to
Different versions of yourself
You still can't forget.