The scent of stale cigarettes
still linger on my sheets
but so does
the smell of you.
I can't make myself wash them -
it's where you used to be;
so I cling to them
as I would to you.
Toss and turn,
roll over
Too hot
Oh, too cold.
Come back
Come back,
let me hold you.
I kiss the back of your neck,
rest my eyes
knowing you're there.
But this morning I woke
you, no longer by my side.
I feel bare.
Without you,
My bed is bittersweet.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
The scent of stale cigarettes
still linger on my sheets
but so does
the smell of you.
I can't make myself wash them -
it's where you used to be;
so I cling to them
as I would to you.
Toss and turn,
roll over
Too hot
Oh, too cold.
Come back
Come back,
let me hold you.
I kiss the back of your neck,
rest my eyes
knowing you're there.
But this morning I woke
you, no longer by my side.
I feel bare.
Without you,
My bed is bittersweet.
