I sleep really weird when I’m in bed alone. I stretch my limbs across the mattress and try to possess as much of it as possible. My pillows cradle me while my covers barricade me in, enclosing me into this vast space. This empty, lonely, uneventful space.
Part of me knows not to claim all of it for deep down, in the ache that keeps me living, is a hope. One ever so small and insignificant during my waking hours. One that creeps and pleads to be coddled under the moonlight. It is twilight’s companion and the only company I keep as I try to fill my sheets with life size dreams, attempting to make up for the lack of you.