tissues for dinner

When I get sad
like really, really sad
I tend to say stupid things.
Somethings stupid like,
"Maybe you'd like this cup of coco
in my hands." Or,
"I think we'd make a good
sad company together with my head resting on your knee
or shoulder,
as I feel you breathing steadily
with a steadiness that competes with the steadiness
of myself
I'm no longer sure exists, until
I'm with you."

Things like
"Those stars are bright tonight," and
"I love you."
Or something.
Moments like these,
I cry; I swallow tissues
for dinner
and see the way they curl up
despicably like
rotted clouds
on my dinner plate
at midnight--
The dregs of a hard,
long,
fitful crying.