Inbetween a state of sleep and tiring thoughts,
my arm extends out to my right,
it's memory of you failing to remember that you're not here.
With fingers slowly curling back under the shell of my palm,
they suffer loneliness.
Coming out again, desperately hoping that they were wrong,
they tickle the rough mattress with their tips.
I turn on the light,
head throbbing,
frustrated with the persistent attitude of my mind and body.
Still, quiet room.
Reflecting my nature,
patient with my outburts.
The soft humming of a car passing by outside,
a contrast.
Thoughts of tomorrow unfurling push my heavy eyes to the verge of tears.
I think of him further and want to message him "I love you.", but am afraid of his answer.
Turning off the lamp,
scooting my dog out of the way,
I lay with my eyes open.
Blink,
blink,
blink.
Nothing changes.
Slow moving fuzzy bodied shapes start to appear on the ceiling,
and after some time,
they spell out "stop." and "why."
Eventually, Inbetween a state of sleep and tiring thoughts,
my arm extends out to my right,
it's memory of you failing to remember that you're not here.
With fingers slowly curling back under the shell of my palm,
they suffer loneliness.