it's 4 a.m. the sight is getting clearer and i know the sun is going to shine on my window sill and the beams will hit my bed on the spot where you used to lie and i wish you were like the sun the one i'll wake up to in the morning but you're gone and the sun has just taken your place and it's supposed to be warm on that spot you know but whenever i touch it it feels incredibly cold
Not a poem but... there's been something that I've been missing lately.