This is not the place
to tell someone you love them
for the first time,
and although I do not believe you,
I smile.

You are not the one
who should be apologizing.
I am the one leaving,
I will take that piece of you with me
(the one you said was mine).

There are flowers beside my bed
sprayed and dyed into
the type of artificial beauty
that can only be appreciated against a white room.

You look at my hands so you do not have to
face the blue circles under my eyes.
You try to laugh like we used to
but there is a carefulness to your disposition
that was never there before;
you are afraid to break me.

I think it's strange that
your heart seems more shattered than mine;
that I try to stay strong for you.
I think it's unfair that
when visiting hours end and you stand to leave,
you drop my hand one finger at a time
and you tell me you love me like
it is the last time,
every time.
I think it is unfair
that you are the one
with last words.

and in your darkness i found my old night light

Loneliness is a blue umbrella
A battered, tattered blue umbrella
Left to sulk in a grimy corner
Forgotten in the shadows
Faded to an almost gray
Worn down and broken
Loneliness is a blue umbrella
A battered, tattered blue umbrella

Dear stormy mornings
On the sea
You make me happy
With so many shades of grey
Tucked into one line of sight.
I can see power in your
Subtle waves that almost look
Opaque
And the wind
Blows across you
The sea birds
With their nimble wings
Serve as proof to your majesty
When they struggle
Against your gales.
The stony beaches
Smooth pebbles
And large rough boulders
Match the flavor of the line
Where the sky
meets the water.
Dear stormy mornings
On the sea.
You are incredibly
Beautiful.