Saturday, November 19, 2011

If

No machines sit by my bed
No beeping noises are made as I sleep
I do not wait for the snoring to stop
I do not fear waking you

I burned your mattress and box spring
Watched the flames disintegrate every inch
I folded the sheets and put them in the back of the closet
The pillowcases are useful, but I put them away too

I lie on the pillow top of the full sized set
I bought before you needed me to stay
the night
I stare at the smooth ceiling, so different
than the popcorn blown ceiling you used to see
with your pale blue irises and blonde lashes

No revelations come
No dreams haunt my sleep
Just the memories of you
And the moments we will never have.

It’s quiet at night now.
I find it hard to sleep.
If I could go back
to that plain day in March
I’d beat on your chest
until it start beating again
I’d lock the doors and keep the priest out
and tell the mourners they cannot come.

There is so much I would do
in a world where “if” is king.

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