While I dreamt last night,
I jumped up and hugged you,
wrapped my legs around
your waist and kissed you.
But you said,
No, please not here.
Your hair felt longer,
and your face had changed.
Maybe it wasn't you.

I heard a leaf blowing
down the street the night
I had stormed out of
your house, I turned to see
if it was you instead, chasing
after me, begging me
not to leave.
I thought maybe you had
changed your mind, but
it was just a dry leave
caught in the breeze.

I was lying in bed and
thought I heard voices, a
conversation I had maybe
dozed into.
Figured perhaps you had
turned the television on again
to dream along with your
favorite characters.
But I looked to my left,
felt the cold sheets, and realized
you were still gone.
You are gone.
Always have been.

It's strange how my
heart and mind decided
to play tricks on me
when I feel this lonely.