i lay in my cold bedroom,
arms wrapped around my pillow.
i crave the warmth of another,
it's similar, yet not the same.
i toss, turn.
i shut my eyes and count sheep.
i open them and start to write.
i close my eyes and swim throughout my memories.
good, and bad.
I can't sleep.
I take a drink,
lay on my back,
lay on my side,
lay on my stomach.
i sink my head into my pillow,
wrap my arms around my body.
it's not the same.
I don't know who I miss,
but I miss them.
their touch,
their warm skin,
soft breathing.
i miss it.
the warmth.
YOU ARE READING
the poems from the heart.
Şiiri write from the heart, words spill out as i type mindlessly, i love to write, and if you're like me, or even not at all. enjoy the words i share, and find love in mine.
