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the night is hot but my heart is cold 

I stir awake all dawn hoping and praying that the next night won't be the same

I stretch my arm to the untouched part of the bed where you once laid 

I live for the memories that once molded our existence 

I can't hope but fathom that one night you will be back 

the night is hot but my heart is cold 

but just like your dignity

the side of the bed still remains 

untouched 


-strangers 

Poems that butter your toastWhere stories live. Discover now