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.