The other side of the bed is empty. Next to me, no one.
I think of the comfort that they could give me.
But yet I am alone.
The silence strangles me.
And my words, nothing heard.
I sit in the night with nothing to think about, thinking about nothing.
The room is cold.
My heart is cold.
A blanket of hope is what I need for warmth.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC
The other side of the bed is empty. Next to me, no one.
I think of the comfort that they could give me.
But yet I am alone.
The silence strangles me.
And my words, nothing heard.
I sit in the night with nothing to think about, thinking about nothing.
The room is cold.
My heart is cold.
A blanket of hope is what I need for warmth.
7-21-16
~mj—k
Request permission to use this poem