Lost without you
alone in the dark
in my own misery
missing you
as you lay right beside me
wishing you were near
hollow and empty
all but my pain and my tears
on this cold pillow case
yearning for the warmth of your kisses
and the tenderness of your touch
and wishing you felt the same
the distance grows between us
the harder I try to reach you
your back is now a familiar feature
that I wish I never knew
I hope that someday soon
you will turn around
and I could see you beautiful face again
but until then I lie here
in the darkness of your shadow
cold and all alone
About the Creator
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More stories from Ashleigh Holloway and writers in Poets and other communities.
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson5 days ago in Fiction
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