i'll say goodbye without saying it
There you lay in the hospital coiled up in pink sheets.
I dreaded coming here for weeks now
to face you and your new friend, Death.
You both stare waiting for me to commit to my grief and let you go,
but I can't let you go.
I hate that you smiled, ever.
You let me into your heart, and house with crumbling walls and caving ceilings,
you let me make fun of your laugh and be mean wih admiring intentions,
you let me cry in selfishness when you broke the news,
and offered no tears to partner with,
you let me share the stars in the sky and your eyes
and the days crashed and the waves passed,
you let me love you for a second before you
handed me the knife and requested a turning favor,
you let me be your mother,
hate you for being so young,
miss you before you were gone.
Now I see that door.
I'm blood in a hallway like a vein
strung from your death grip.
All veins lead to your heart
and I'm pumping hard.
I could tumble over my remorse for not coming sooner
and fall right into your hands.
You're quiet now,
white and gold.
Yes, I remember this body
but not the face.
That halo still sits above our bed and that head like an elevator shaft.
Angels sit selfishly awaiting your skyscraper-arrival.
I will not return you to whoever gave you to me,
I can't.
So you will leave truly alone,
you bier built into my chest like ancient stone.
The floors are clean,
the curtains drawn.
I'll say goodbye without saying it.
Who's gonna take that toe ring you danced all night on?
Who's gonna keep your writings and sob over their forecast?
Who's gonna smell your absense in your clothes and burn them,
those jeans we played mischief in?
Give them to the army surplus store (I couldn't do your figure justice).
Who's gonna blow wishes with my fallen eye-lashes?
Who's gonna come that close to my face, ever?
Who'll take my breath away just by breathing?
Who'll silence me just by being?
Dear S., dance with me in the dark of your familiar.
Let's touch swan-like for a last time, in this hour,
wrap necks and
coo (your favourite word)
I'll say it
without saying it.
Dear S.; Amber Tamblyn
I dreaded coming here for weeks now
to face you and your new friend, Death.
You both stare waiting for me to commit to my grief and let you go,
but I can't let you go.
I hate that you smiled, ever.
You let me into your heart, and house with crumbling walls and caving ceilings,
you let me make fun of your laugh and be mean wih admiring intentions,
you let me cry in selfishness when you broke the news,
and offered no tears to partner with,
you let me share the stars in the sky and your eyes
and the days crashed and the waves passed,
you let me love you for a second before you
handed me the knife and requested a turning favor,
you let me be your mother,
hate you for being so young,
miss you before you were gone.
Now I see that door.
I'm blood in a hallway like a vein
strung from your death grip.
All veins lead to your heart
and I'm pumping hard.
I could tumble over my remorse for not coming sooner
and fall right into your hands.
You're quiet now,
white and gold.
Yes, I remember this body
but not the face.
That halo still sits above our bed and that head like an elevator shaft.
Angels sit selfishly awaiting your skyscraper-arrival.
I will not return you to whoever gave you to me,
I can't.
So you will leave truly alone,
you bier built into my chest like ancient stone.
The floors are clean,
the curtains drawn.
I'll say goodbye without saying it.
Who's gonna take that toe ring you danced all night on?
Who's gonna keep your writings and sob over their forecast?
Who's gonna smell your absense in your clothes and burn them,
those jeans we played mischief in?
Give them to the army surplus store (I couldn't do your figure justice).
Who's gonna blow wishes with my fallen eye-lashes?
Who's gonna come that close to my face, ever?
Who'll take my breath away just by breathing?
Who'll silence me just by being?
Dear S., dance with me in the dark of your familiar.
Let's touch swan-like for a last time, in this hour,
wrap necks and
coo (your favourite word)
I'll say it
without saying it.
Dear S.; Amber Tamblyn