Laying in bed,
Horribly lonely.
I get up and walk to the fridge.
I'm not hungry.
What am I looking for?
I open the door to the fridge and
Take a look inside, what do
I expect to find?
Maybe she'll be in there.
Or maybe she'll be waiting for
Me in my room by the time
I get back.
Should I bring some
String cheese for her?
Some Dr. Pepper without
Ice?
She's not there, and
She never will be.
But it seems like every time
I open my bedroom door
I expect to see her there.
Waiting for me.
YOU ARE READING
The Chronicles of My Addiction
PoetryA collection of poetry I wrote when I was addicted to the sadness that a love brought upon me.
