yesterday, we were at the art gallery, wandering hand in hand, ducking into corners when rowdy groups of school kids ploughed past, sneaking kisses by the displays.
i had blisters on my toes, a product of them rubbing against the sides of my boots (on the train beforehand you leaned over and whispered into my ear that they were cfm - standing for come **** me - boots and i was astounded and pleased and trying not to make eye contact with you on that crowded standing-room-only train, wondering if other people could read our ***** thoughts) so i'd pulled them off and was slipping and sliding in my socks on the wooden floors.
it was a perfect day, really, but the only piece of art i remember seeing was you.

"i'm so bored with it all," winston churchill said, before slipping into a coma and dying nine days later.

I dreamt of your fragil face tonight
The same skinny way it was when you were mine
Your grip on reality frightened me
You lost yourself in your calories
I hooked you up to your feeding machine
It wouldn't leave me alone, it wouldn't let me be
On and off it beeped and beeped
The alarm so high pitched, echoed, like your screaming

Nothing I did was good enough for you
Coffee was too difficult
Eggs was all I could do
I sang to you our song, chew, chew...
I am a bag of wind
Blowing meaningless sense into you
You dropped your cigarette, stepped, crushing, ashes
The same you did to me, throwing, mashes, crashes

I treated you like royalty
You deserved the best
On your death bed again
Varying on the wish that your small life would end
Why did you leave me?
When I needed you most
It was a tragic ending
I won't see you again

I listen to the sirens
File at my house
They remind me of your feeding tube
Why did you rip it out?
I'm hiding in my neighbors tree
I need some hope, don't find me please
Eventually, I could describe you as this tree
Never to be the same again, never to love me