I lay in the dark, in the cold.
The warmth from the soft blanket is artificial.
I can feel it, his warmth.
Ghostly. Human, his breaths.
I could imagine it from all the times
Our bodies touched.
Even though now it was all
I slowly drifted into this.
I slowly drifted into imaginary sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Morbitity
PoetryPoems from the heart Poems from the mind Poems from the dark ❤
