Saying goodbye to empty rooms
Palms on bare boards that held your bed
Cupboards that yawn like empty tombs
If you were here what would you have said?
Amber bars of light from slatted blinds
Where you stood white-capped, serene
A trail of dirty finger marks left behind
That final garden in all its shades of green
Is there a trace of you on these ivory walls
Upon these dusty moats
Some withered cells, a stray hair falls
A bit of ash stuck in our throats
The heavy door clicks shut
Mirroring that close of musty drapes
Farewell couldn’t be more clear-cut
Flames consuming that beautiful face
I holler your name into the waves
Could I be more cliché?
The expanse of the ocean is your grave
A grief I can’t allay
Sweetly Unhappy People 