This empty room; this empty space.
The emptiness I claim, beneath these naked sheets;
The empty space, someday soon, may be complete.
Hopelessly hoping you have no thoughts of retreat.
These empty spaces, between these sheets.
A sadness pours down over me; every night I lay down to sleep.
The fires burn forever, slowly fueling this empty heart of mine.
Doubts and regrets, fill this cluttered mind of mine.
As I rest; all I want is your hand in mine,
your slow gentle breath, breathing slowly, lovingly against my neck.
Where time is never wasted, and time always well spent.
It angers my heart; that I haven't found you yet.
I gave up looking; after years and years of hell.
© 2013 Christina Jackson