I left behind all my belongings,
Just to reach you with pure love.
Sorry, babe, I lied---
It’s just the shovel, a piece to reach my love.
The sun dips below the horizon,
No one can see us kiss.
Sorry, babe,
For spoiling your lip gloss, I’ll buy a new one for you my love.
I can smell your hair,
Through the thin air.
Sorry, babe, for the odour—
It’s just the sweat; we’ll forget it out of love.
My eyes turned red,
Since the day you left.
Sorry, babe, for skipping the meds—
I’ll rest in your arms now, scratch my head, like you always do, my love.
I’m not crying,
It’s just the showers.
Sorry, babe, I lied—
It’s my tears, and I don’t want to drench you in them, my love.
Do you remember the frogs and bees,
Back in our garden?
They sang for you all night, since you left---
And it was me in the daytime, for you my love.
Fuckin napkins were gone,
Really gone.
Sorry, babe, I used your skirt—
Just to save your picture from the tears of your love.
My show will take place in a while,
My agony will be gone in a while.
Sorry, babe,
I can’t pull the crowd; it’s just you and me, my love.
Is it worth it without you, my love?
I questioned my existence.
Sorry, babe,
The answer I was looking for—it was you, my love.
This drug isn't working,
I don’t know why.
All I feel is getting closer to you—
With all my heart, my love.
Divine and grace is what I feel,
By getting closer every inch,
I’m the happiest man in the world,
I see you sprinting towards me,
I’m gonna drop this California poppies,
Pen, paper, and my breathe altogether, On your feet--
As always, I loved to stay,
Hug me tight,
As close as you can, as tight as you can,
My hands tremble, I don’t feel my body,
Where were you, my love,
I was worried,
Hold my hands, and never___
The poem “Happily ever after” portrays a man in his 80s, sitting in a graveyard, drenched in sweat, with tired, worn hands. Unable to escape the void left by his wife’s death, he decides to commit suicide, not by shooting himself, hanging, or bleeding to death. Instead, he dozed off and dug a grave beside his wife’s, seeking peaceful rest by her side. He writes one last poem before dawn and places it atop her cemetery with her favourite California poppies.