There's nothing left
But sugar coats
Stitched together
By grinning words, all
Saturated in sympathy.

“So sorry for your loss”
Is written on every shiny forehead
And held in every reassuring hand
And undertoned below every “hello” –
Good-bye.

There's nothing left
But empty drawers
That still distinctly smell like your
Favorite perfume and your
Worn out sweaters.

Nothing but the dust bunnies
Under the bed which you
Had always wanted
To vacuum away.

Your favorite weather
Still thrives outside the window
And colors that are almost
As passionate as you were
Swirl about like tame fireworks.

Your favorite Polish tea set
Still sits there – in the kitchen cabinet
I'm sorry – it's quite dusty now, I couldn't
Find a time to use it.

But I will never lose it
Because it has a couple of
Your fingerprints,
From when you tried
To clean it,
A lipstick stain from when
You drank from a blue speckled jug
As the clock struck 5:43
And you reluctantly turned 34.

The remote with the broken button
Which I never try to fix
Because you were the last
Who ever stabbed it in frustration.

The last photo of us I have which
Stands calmly by the first, where
Instead of roses on your cheeks
And violets in your eyes,
And sunlight in your hair
You had a star upon your cheek
And scripts of hope along your scalp
Deep puddles underneath your eyes –
But you still smiled, for you
Had always loved the rain
And you had loved me far too much
To cry and to give in to pain.

And when it came down to it
You had to calm me down
Because my shuddering could have
Started an earthquake
That would break the richter scale
As you broke my love for air –
For air gives breathers life.
But I feel mine was taken.

I'll never listen to another song
Because it will drown out the sound
Of your last words to me –
“I love you, but if anybody asks,
I died at the grand, youthful age of 30.”