Saturday, March 12, 2016

The Day My Bed Swallowed Me

I was afraid to sleep in my own bed.

I'd climb under the sheets and get all situated
only to find that the person I loved wasn't there.
Only in my head.


I don't know what's worse.
To hide under this mountain of sheets
until you come back or to rip this bed off
like a bandaid, every morning and
convince myself I can handle this.

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