I lie in bed, alone, the covers my barrier against the world. I lie on my side, hugging myself, because there are no other arms to do so. I breathe shallow, bite back sobs, shake. Everything is so cold, when love has been diluted into nothing, dedicated to another but me. I feel the presence of the emptyness, it's vastness crushing me; I feel small, naked, exposed, vulnerable. I close my eyes, pray for sleep - to forget. All of it. A thin, childish voice comes from the street, singing. Joyful. I shudder, hear the lyrics taunting me; an ode to a caring lover. The voice fades away as it's owner moves further from my home, and once again, I am absolutely alone. I fall into a thoughtless reverie, looking through everything, into nothingness. I am no longer aware of anything, and time passes, the shadows of the sun through the curtains shifting on my wall. A crash. I jerk back into my body, quiver. Footsteps. Is somebody in the house? |
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Lover Without Love
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