"losing her hem"

Cocoa walks through the door with a sadness,
a look,
she says her moms got stomach cancer,
I fall on her rivers uneasy.
She says say something funny,
make me laugh,
as I choke on empathy and tell her of my dad.
I can't think of anything funny to say,
as I come around in her ghost,
her sadness overwhelms me like a drape,
as I am a decoration on her window.
Is this a joke?
How could this be?
I've lost touch,
in her eyes to see,
that I reek.
Inside my eyes she's so pretty,
letting the sunlight in,
all I can do is close the curtains.
Whilst she is losing her hem again,
she's so cute.
She says it's my style,
I'm setting a trend.
I said you wear it well,
we laughed I guess?
I told a joke?
Now, I have to go Bunny,
my rides here.
She smiles,
my hem is a rye?
It's at the end of it's rope?
I said Cocoa your hem it's so baroque!
She says don't leave without saying good-bye?
She's a poet,
she says,
I'm to dark you wouldn't understand.
I said I don't know?
I'm just fantasy,
I'm just, "tan."