50/50 -

He looks at you the way he cannot look directly at a car crash

Slightly off to the left, half asleep, head-first into headlights

Chewing on concrete, trying to decide whether long goodbyes are worse than

nothing

He looks at you as if to say «We Are At Home In The Body,»

But when we’re alone in the lobby it’s hard to find anything to say

There’s no comfort in stained glass or pictures of organs we all have

When it’s just you struggling against the hospital bed

Fighting with myself not to make a memory of this moment

Nothing is worse than long goodbyes

I don’t know how we watch the ones we love die and forget to remember them alive