The sounds of his sleep-filled snores, a polyrhythm.
To the echoes in my aching hollowed chest,
His eyelashes, beautiful, but a constant reminder,
Of what was loved, lost, and still in the back of my mind.
In this anguish of the sleepless nights.

He tosses and turns, in his slumberous shifts, his hand seeks mine.
Comfort and warmth, instinct, but not delight.
In his touch, my stomach churns in disgust, at myself.
I yearn for your touch, I yearn for your warmth,
Your embrace, that seeks solace against my body, which is burning alive.

This cruel irony, he loves me so.
This closeness, this warmth,
whispered lies of "I love you"
eyes that trace the ceiling, each imperfection, a reminder of this imperfect life.
Each creak, of this house, of words unsaid.
Each snore, a measure of my acting in this trance,
Unbind me from this torture, unbind me from your love.
I miss you so , I miss you so, please set me free
so I can love again.