the dim lit rooms where i met your friends, i left
for the dry winter with salty roads
the drive down the east coast
the blizzard on the way back to PA

the spring and summer
when the bottom of my stomach still stung.

hospital stays
and steady paces into the snow
saw the eventual melting and resurgance
of this spring
except when the flowers came up,
they were all gray.

and when the trees all blossomed,
they were all gray.

and when i looked in the mirror,
it was gray too.

and nobody talked to me
and you just laughed and said
*good riddance