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Barkley Layne Jan 2015
He became
My pillow
My blanket
My air.

He became
My lips
My smile
My thoughts.

He became
My tease
My hand
My hold.

He became
My 3 am laughter
My 4 am kiss
My 5 am Sunlight.
Late night talks and early morning kisses
Nick Moser Feb 2016
Do you ever wake up some mornings and think, "Man, this *****, I'm a huge loser?"

Yes?


Well then,

Keep dreaming kid.
Sleep is for the week (of January 5th)
Plain oatmeal and coffee
Don't taste the same anymore,
blankets and cold feet
I no longer feel...
Mornings...

Plain oatmeal and coffee
Used to be the highlight of my day,
kitchen sounds, soft music... laughter
they no longer exist...

Plain oatmeal and coffee
cold kitchen floor
messy hairs up in a bun...
Memories...

Plain oatmeal and coffee
your soft skin
reading books at the table
Your eyes looking at mine
All that is gone...

Plain oatmeal and coffee...
The taste is now bitter
The smell makes my stomach ache...
the sounds of the kitchen... they hurt

And even though I pray
For all of it to vanish from my brain,
Plain oatmeal and coffee
Is all that I wish for again...
I remember you that early morn,
you were sleeping on our bed.
I had to wake you up. You were leaving me
but the bus taking you
home was going to leave you.
And so I took this last photograph of you
sleeping soundly on our bed
as though the world is a bubble
that even I cannot hurt you.
I cannot hurt you any more.

I took a bath under the dim lights of a candlestick.
The sound of the water gurgling on the tub would be my ally and foe
from then on. Every morning I hear it and I
remember; imagine you up there
in our room, on our bed
just before you left.

And so,
everyday I mourn
I mourn for you and I mourn for me
I mourn for the lost life and possibility.
I just want to wake up next to you once more.
Scarlett Willow Jan 2016
Waking up to the smell of cooking breakfast was the best thing in the world to her.
The bed would be empty, but she'd know where he was.
She'd roll off a bed and throw on the nearest t-shirt, even if it wasn't hers, and stretch, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
She'd take a deep breath and look out the window.
She'd see cars driving by and children up and running.
She'd leave the room to find him in the kitchen, humming some old rock song.
She'd smile and hug him from behind, but he wouldn't jump; he knew it was her.
He'd turn and plant a kiss on her forehead and maybe on her cheeks.
He'd tell her good morning and pull her in close.
She'd nuzzle into his chest and mumble a reply.
He'd laugh and smile.
She'd look up into his eyes and know she found it.

She found home.
Sometimes home isn't a place, it's a person.
Roberta Day Jan 2016
Morning rituals--
Crap! I overslept, coffee,
and contemplation.
I did it again.
JASON R JOHNSON Jan 2016
These bed sheets formed hills out of your curves,  and
             I leaned in to place my lips gently, on yours
like morning dew that sits on a blade of grass, and a  

ZAP!

came from the build up

                                of electric charge

A half smile and a frown,
        I stopped you from using your hand to soothe the pain from your lips, and kissed you  instead

In a room filled with natural light
You shone the brightest


The wind whistles and tree branches with ice filled cracks, breaks trying to dance with the wind.

And we were warmed knowing

        That on cold days we were not alone


.....and no it's not selfish that you stole the duvet and wrapped yourself into a cocoon.

Jan 7th. 2016
Buddhakris Jan 2016
Hell, this day just begun and I'm already done.

I knew when I heard that familiar screech of the alarm,

The cold side of a warm blanket on an empty bed,

And the imprint where "she" had laid only hours before;

I knew then, that this day was already done.

I knew I still had to get up, "attack the day"

Or whatever the hell they say.

Brush my teeth and pretend I'm not the derelict from the night before

Pretend I hadn't done it again

Pretend to be the man I sold her to see.

The truth is my life feels like a snow globe

All the potential spinning round me

Still unable to grasp any of it, still stuck inside this cold, small world

Forced to pretend that what I'm looking for is inside this small world.

I'm lost, there's something so,

So dreadfully, inexplicably, abstact that I'm missing and I'm cavernous without it

Put the toothbrush down and just head back to bed

This day just begun and it's already done.
cyanide skies Dec 2015
someday you'll wake up
from a nightmare unprecedented.
you'll sit up straight,
gasp and stare in the darkness
like it's going to swallow you whole.
but then I'll mumble
half asleep beside you
and I'll reach out for you
and say, "lay down baby,
I'm here and you're okay."
and you'll smile, fears gone
I'll turn over, place my arms
around your body
that had previously been quaking.
I'll hold you and kiss your neck
my warmth right beside you
and we'll fall asleep again.

someday I'll wake up
to the smell of brewing coffee
and I'll get out of bed
head down to the kitchen
to find you at the table
a mug of tea ready for me
and you with your coffee.
I'll go over to the counter,
spoon honey into my tea
while you hug me from behind
and pull me into bed again.

someday we'll wake up
and lay in bed all day
I'll ruffle your hair
you'll slide your hands up my nightshirt
and we'll stay intertwined
while rain falls in sheets
while we're under sheets
and the rest of the world
deals with the world's problems
and whenever I try
to get anything done
you'll pull me close
and I'll kiss you again.

someday they'll wake up
with your hair and my eyes
my nose and your smile
and their little feet
will stomp down to the kitchen
you with your coffee
me with my tea
us with our pancakes
and our own little family.
**
Ram B Dec 2015
A lovely sunny day
Out of the window
lined by wood, painted white
Marvelous guest house
filled with mystery, personality
style and history.
I feel good
One quiet morning
A new day begins.
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