My Bed Is Cold

The absence of love

Photo by Shane on Unsplash

My heart is warm, my bed is cold
I long for your touch, the brush of your finger
Your laugh, once music to my ears, no longer plays for me
Our memories, floating ghosts in the hall
They linger and wander, lost now to time
Time, the robber of passion, the killer of joy
We fell victim to it all, darling, though we fought hard
Space, once occupied by love
Now empty, barricaded with walls
Shots fired, punches thrown, daggers aimed
Battered and scarred, no one could have survived this
You are near, but not near me
I see you every day, yet I’m always missing you
Holding onto what is dead, afraid to let go
My heart stays warm but my bed is cold