It’s the morning after last night
The first full night without him
And its funny, my eyes are sandy
My mouth tastes like last night’s cigarette
Even though I quit smoking ten years ago
I may have to start again. Don’t sneer.
He never did quit. Didn’t matter to me
I miss the snick of his lighter though
One of the pre dawn sounds that used to be
Part of the lullaby that we created together
To help each other through the night
Already I find myself reverting to old patterns
I’m afraid of the dark, always have been
As a child, I kept a flashlight and books
Under the covers with me, quiet as a mouse
Writing stories, reading to my dollies
Pretty faerytales to keep the monsters at bay
In this twenty-four hours, I am there again
Sleeping with my laptop for a night-light
Tapping out stories of love never-ending
Of soul mates and children and beautiful beginnings
I jump at every noise that I hear
In this house that is no longer a home
Placing my back against a pile of pillows
That are supposed to be the same configuration
As his frame, in this bed that feels the size of a hockey arena
And certainly, just as damn cold
How does he sleep without me?
He once told me that he hadn’t really slept in years
Not since we’d found one another
And how does he fight back those fears?
Who will know the words to say or the caresses
The exact touch and placement of kisses
That calms his nightmares right away?
Its light outside now. The monsters slink back to shadow
I think I’ll go make coffee. Even though I could sleep in
He liked fresh brewed coffee in the morning…
~ kei