Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2016
I sleep diagonal.
In my full size bed I am only a half size person,
I stretch out into the corners of my mattress at night to cover the spaces and spread myself...
Wide and lounging to my heart's content.

That is to say I slept diagonal
I've become one in a pair who has one bed between them.
I do not stretch myself out into the corners of the mattress, nor into the corners of him.
My heart is not so content anymore.

In sharing my bed I should be sharing myself but despite all that is said and done I am still to afraid to curl myself into him at night.
I don't stretch myself into comfortable shapes around his body,
I don't let our bodies intertwine into warm and safe knots.
This shouldn't speak volumes but the sound is deafening,
The fear of being alone is the cause of my diagonal slumber.
If I cover the mattress in limbs and extremities then perhaps it won't feel so empty.
If I take up every inch of bed then perhaps there wasn't room for him to begin with.
With him laying next to me,
It is a cold reminder that there is room
There always was room.

And perhaps he is a placeholder, but until the day that I have found a man to comfortably stretch myself into, I will learn to sleep straight
Because I just can't sleep diagonal anymore.
Devon Litster
Written by
Devon Litster  Canada
(Canada)   
554
   Lior Gavra
Please log in to view and add comments on poems