I left the candle wax to cry,
not wasting my own tears on emptiness
Blank space eats up all my comfort
too much space
too many hours, till morning

Sweet scents cling to cotton and pillows alike
venomous aromas you've left behind,
to suffocate my sleepless nights

The colors have left me too,
choosing the quickest exist.
Grey lingers the lone exile,
as black and white space defiles
our empty bed.