my dear has departed

I spent 6 years in therapy
before I found my Bliss.
he held my hand
and pulled my hair;
he sang me to sleep
before my tears took the opportunity.
he left me in December
and returned to me in May.
my flowers bloomed
when he arrived
and he offered them a drink
of his tears.
he told me he was sorry
and I, how I missed him,
but he didn't seem to hear me.
now he visits me at my new home
every other Sunday.
he tells me why he cries at night
and how he wishes he could join me.
I don't think I'd mind
if he came to me to stay.
because after all,
my coffin gets rather lonely.