The Bed

The Bed

Today, I awoke with nothing beside me,
Nothing next to me in the bed,
No note, no goodbye, no last words,
Not even a kiss on my forehead.

Last night so many words were said
Yet a lot remained unread,
Between the lines of the spoken words
So much was blindly read.

This morning, as I turned my face
And looked at the image beside me,
Nothing remained of the night before,
Not even an image of what had been.

So now, with nothing here
I refuse to think to deep:
No! The thought will not be chronic,
No! It will not be my need.

The day is slowly turning over
And I impatiently wait for the night,
Alone on the bed with nothing beside me
I refuse to put on the light,
As the light reminds me of what had been,
What was there before I had seen,
Before I opened my eyes to nothing here,
Nothing...Nothing but my fear.

So yes! One morning I awoke,
To find he had left the bed.
He woke up that morning and all changed
The Man, the Fear, had suddenly left.