I stare out my window
At the distant thread of lights
And the familiarity unnerves me;
At the ghostly trees lit by
The synthetic glow of the long hall.
The winter air seeps through,
Chilling the warm string of tears
That nested in my pillow;
Their trek over the rise and fall
Of bare skin shinning in the light,
Leaving a physicality to my anguish.
I stretch, wishing it would disturb you
So you would pull me closer,
Locking us in slumber.
I am reminded
This bed was made for one,
And it’s for this that
I stare so blankly
At the recently familiar,
While the loose ends in my heart
Keep away my sleep.