The ringing inside of your head has been going on for months now. There used to be music but the chords haven’t made any sense to you since the silence began. The emptiness drones on, its own form of white noise. You stand still, like you're waiting for a bus that isn’t going to come. Even if it does you know you’re going to be the only passenger. And yet you’re there because a part of you thinks it’ll bring you back to a spot where you're still 8 years old. A time when the only thing you loved more than your dog was the way he liked to chase his tail in circles. Do you ever tell people what it felt like when he ran away and never came back? Or maybe you’re so used to being abandoned by now and that’s why you leave people cold for a living. It’s much safer than the alternative of waking up and realizing the left side of your bed is empty before you are able to say goodbye. That’s why you sleep alone. That’s why the last person to visit your apartment at night was the neighbor who needed to borrow some milk. Too bad he didn’t know you were harboring ghosts in your closest. The priest would come and bless them away if only you could learn to make new friends. Do you keep them because they tell you what you want to hear? Or is it because they remind you of all the crimes you committed, the hearts you ripped out in cold blood and forgot to give back? A long list of apologies that never made it past the answering machine. You must’ve been born without a reflex that allowed you to wait past the tone. And it doesn’t help at this point that you don’t even know your own name. It stopped sounding the same when your dad wasn’t there to say it anymore. The first casualty you endured, the first crack that would eventually break all of your bones. I guess it’s hard to build a home when the only one you'd ever known chewed and spit you out like a flavorless piece of gum. And now you’re all alone in a bed that’s made for two. Nobody seemed to warn you that setting yourself on fire won’t keep you warm at night.

I've stopped imagining you lying in bed with me.
Because I know even in my dreams you'd stay close to the edge,
Trying to get as far away from me as possible,
And leave me feeling lonely, empty and
Cold.

The moon said,
tell me a bedtime story
so I told her
a short one
about us
and the sky
wept.