It has been raining
For so long that
I have grown accustomed
To the sound of
Sloshing puddles
Being tossed around
By the traffic outside
My window.

Inside my bedroom,
Laying in the pitch black
With nothing but a
bright, white screen
In front of me,
Squinting as I listen
To the motors and
The sloshing puddles
Trying not to think
Of you.

Even breathing
Next to me,
The sky lightening and
Illuminating the tapestry
Over my window that
Mildly mutes the sound
Of the sloshing and
The motors as I lay
Trying not to think
Of you.

Facing the edge,
A corner of the covers
Covering me,
I feel exposed
And not because
I'm naked and the blanket
Doesn't cover.

The shadow breathes
Sighing next to me and
Rolls over taking more
Of the warmth with it.
And I'm cold.
Not because of the covers
Or because I'm naked.

I need you.

The motor sounds and
Sloshing puddles are outside
My window and if I focus hard
Enough I won't cry as I try
Not to think
About you.