I wanted to reach out to you/but there was a cluttered nightstand

with a Cola glass half empty, or half full

depending on which side of you

I would have met today.

I spent minutes, or months

blinking at it too, fighting off the urge

and you are another bad habit

I have failed to send down the drain,

waiting to rot me from the inside out.

Instead I sat and watched its subtle curves,

volumes it speaks without a word,

and questioned how much longer

I would continue to wait

for you to make space for me again.

I know that I am worth more than the crawl space

within your bedside drawer.

But, that does not mean that

I do not still dream about it.

Think back to the wooden panels

that once held us together,

raw and unsplintered,

unfinished beginnings

to a potential masterpiece

and let the caffeine addiction

make haze of my better judgement.

It is harder when I need you, too.