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Lonely
I open my eyes, and the ceiling is dark.
I feel the gentle pressure of the sheet on my skin.
I shiver from the coolness of our room,
And I realize you are not beside me.
I turn my head, wishing I could see you,
Feel you,
Touch you,
Next to me
All I see is a fluffed pillow.
My face grows hot, and my eyes tingle,
Just before I begin to cry.
Rivers of searing fire stream down
My cheeks, and bury themselves in my pillow
Because you are gone.
After a while I turn again, and smooth the sheet
Where you have lain
(I was saving the wrinkles until you returned).
I miss you.
When you return, you will not know
How much I hurt while you were gone.
The bed will be smooth, and your pillow
Will still be fluffed.
Copyright, Amethyst - August 1999
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