I remember the weekend,
the one that was happy
and how you watched me
whenever you spoke.
I remember you smiling
standing there, beautiful,
and holding my hand while you slept.
But, now it's Tuesday, too cold
and rainy, so hard and dark.
You told me goobye
sorry, it's done.
There's another who's less likely to hurt.
I remember you speaking
for me when needed
and laughing so hard at my jokes
and taking care of me in a few small ways,
enough to matter, but not choke.
But, then it was over and packing up
I heard you cough in the trailer
and I knew then, bad was coming
balanced out by the good we just had.
And I was right, a week and a half later
Tuesdays are forever changed.
I haven't slept since Monday night.
I try, but dreams of you wake me.
I can't seem to eat more than 3 bites a day
I cry from my good memories, and balance maintains
but soon, the grief will fade.
But, still I remember you driving my car
like it was yours, and that memory
is also a sweet one to keep.
I remember playing the game and you
keeping me near, but not so near to constrain.
So you walk just the line I need
between caring and trust that I can
handle myself. You walk the line between
kindness and rage equally well at times,
since integration isn't your thing.
And you never look so beautiful as when you wear
the brown jersey and pants, relaxing
and smile down at me.
But the greatest beauty I have
to remember is when you held my hands
whille inside me and spoke perfectly sweet words
at perfect times.
But now it is Wednesday
a week and a half later
and I'm skinnier, weaker, but hanging on
to the cherished memories and goodbye.