Gone
I lay on my bed,
cradling a pillow in my arms.
I wanted to believe it was you.
Sleepily my hands explore the bed,
searching for the warmth of your skin.
I wanted to believe you were there.
Awakened by my stark reality,
I remember that your side is empty.
I wanted to believe you loved me.
Emptiness engulfs my soul,
I sink slowly back on the empty bed.
Now I believe you're gone.
It's raining again.
The CrackWalker (Trish Poce)© 2005
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