Left to Write, About a Muse on the Right

I used to

be able

to fall asleep

on my left side

when I slept

next to you.

I used to be able to sleep

in almost any position,

next to you.

I didn’t need you to hold me,

but I liked it.

It was

good sleep.

Sleep I still crave.

I don’t miss you much,

anymore. Until I try

to fall asleep on

my left side.

Left to find

I can only sleep

in a ball on my right

side. curled up like a

wilted flower, unaccepting

of water, carefully

situated with cushions

on each side,

in effort to disinvite you

from my bed. In effort

to disinvite your bed

from my memory.

In effort to bring

comfort that I've only

felt for the short time

you occupied the right

side.

I do not miss you much,

anymore. But when I do

sleep evades, and I lie

awake dreaming of you,

knowing if you were

here I’d be asleep–

........

But I’d also be so different.

It’s hard to grieve

a life you never could live.

One that slipped through

your fingers; the hourglass

never even made it to the show.

It was destined to be uncontained

until it blew away.

We sparked a fire that burned blue and then was snuffed out.

We both know

it was supposed to be

like this. But,

why can’t I sleep

in any position,

by myself?

.........

It’s 1:50am.

I tried sleeping on my left side

and you popped into my brain

like melatonin happens in other people’s.

I haven’t thought of you for a week or two, which makes me smile.

(maybe that's a lie I stopped keeping track.)

I’m still waiting for good sleep.

But not for you.

(a lie I told myself until it sank into my pretend.)

It's 1:51am and I have given

up and rolled over to

my right side,

your memory slips in and out

some nights. Tonight it danced along my

thought patterns like a bird on an electrical wire

and played muse.

.......

It's funny how someone can

be so far away, for all the right reasons,

and still feel like the one thing

you'll always need. Though you

know deep down, you do not need, it

only feels like that because of the security

before the smoke rose to the air

as the blue extinguished into char.

It can never be unburnt.

You cannot put ash back together,

no matter how much you long to.