Sleeping

I won't allow my cheek to hit the pillow,
until then I can take comfort
in liquid to help lower my eyelids.

If my head lays to rest,
your jaw is not there
resting on my forehead.

If I see darkness,
our own lullabies
are silent.

If I hear that fan,
your bangs are
no longer moving.

If I cup that pillow,
your soft chest
isn't beneath my palm.

If I find that narrow pillow,
you didn't snag your favorite.

If my knee meets my chest,
it isn't gripping your thigh.

If I lay still,
your twitching isn't keeping me awake.

My body still finds no rest
in your absence.

Tracing Back

This muddy river is beginning to seep into my nostrils. Wading along the current, I continue to float uncomfortably. I don't enjoy this murky water or the taste of dirt trickling down my throat, but I always end up allowing the ripples to take me on down.

This blood stream is beginning to eat away at my skin. Velvet red upon my ivory flesh is starting to put fear into my pupils. Bubbling at the surface upon my forearms, the pain pricks the hairs but never makes it to my chest. My heart is safe in the warmth you cast.

This gray lake is beginning to drown me in its vast darkness. The liquid appears clear up close, bouncing up and down my body. But once I look to find my feet, I can only sense them kicking.

This clear replenishment is beginning to take over my once boiling veins. Splashing into the humidity of my past, the droplets left a refreshing residue. Finally I found peace in your overtaking, gentle waves. Letting them flush the rocks, I basked in the hushing sounds of your waves that you created with your touch. Lifting my heavy soul with those cool blue eyes, I was lighter than a boat. Sailing within your waves, I felt home.

Keep Breathing

I thought the world stopped when mine stopped. Apparently everyone is not aware of how little it could take for me to slip. The cliff is right at my toe nails but people still occasionally like to see the pebbles fall beneath me. "Whoa" they say, that was close. But I still make it; thus far the burning inside has not ended me in engulfing flames. I may waver back and forth over the million miles of air below me, but I seem to stay on ground somehow. But sometimes I don't even want the ground at my toes, the boiling blood beneath my skin is too hot to let settle. I just want to jump. And let the cool breeze of rapid air send blue waves through my blood stream. I want the air to brush away that hair and feel the fresh invisible blanket upon my face. If only it were so simple.

Sleeping is not sleeping without you

I don't want to go to bed, because I fear you will not be there. That "skinny" pillow you once rested your head upon does not suffice. Sure, I can pretend that the soft, plump corner is your shoulder, but will it lift up and down? How can I sleep knowing that you are not breathing next to me?

Up and down, up and down your soft, "hairy" chest would beat. Your eyelids looked so calm as the fan air brushed your bangs away. Incomparible to the rest of your body, your legs refused to lay still, "RLS" you claimed as your disorder. My head nuzzled upon the divot between your shoulder and your chest, with my hand upon your stomach, tempted to tickle you knowing I would hear that giggle and a "stop" with a big grin. The sheet between the wind from my mouth upon your skin was too much of a separation you called for; my leg wrapped around yours, my foot resting upon your "bony shin".

If I adjusted to the other side of the bed, you would nuzzle your mouth upon the back of my shoulder; you would reach between the distance with great grip, gasp, and sigh of relief; your hands were around something "safe," you once said.

So what do I do now when I toss and turn, trying either direction for your skin and naturally "radiating body heat"? Do I keep searching for something I will not find? Or will you grace me with your likes to "cuddle"?