and when I wake
it'll happen maybe once
(twice, if I'm being honest)
each morning.
I wake
(but is it waking up if I never sleep?)
and I know
(I can't ever know, will I?)
the thoughts will not
stop
(please make it stop)
until I
(this lonely me in this bed alone)
reach my foot
back
(where you should be, God damn it, where you should be)
and find
(I'll never stop searching)
your feet,
(cold, always so cold)
your body,
(warm under these covers)
just you,
(where are you?)
waiting.
YOU ARE READING
Late Night Poetry
Thơ caJust a collection of things I end up coming up with. True thoughts here so enjoy. Forever hoping that Wattpad will fix the formatting.
