Scarred Hands | Poetry collection | Versification

4 | empty bed

February 23rd, 2023.
1:20 pm.

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There is too much space in this bed for two,
Your pillow and my heart awaits;
Where are you?

Your little snores, your half-closed eyes;
A sight once mundane, but now I realize,
You were beautiful, although unaware.

My heart misses those countless nights,
Spent by your side.
Your too-tight hugs, your odd little habits;
Like waking up suddenly with a racing heart
and eyes wide,
Like when scared, you would put your legs on top of mine.

There is too much space in this bed for two,
Your pillow and my heart awaits;
Where are you?

Early mornings don't feel the same;
I still get breakfast in bed,
So should I be complaining?
Perhaps not, because comfortable am I,
But I miss your presence, I miss the sight;
Of you frying an egg, making tea,
A tiny frown on your forehead,
And in your eyes: sleep.

And after school, when I come back to bed;
It feels too large, too empty; almost sad.
Like as if it misses you like I do;
We spent a lot of time in it, isn't that true?
The side of the bed where you use to sleep;
There the shadow of memories still linger;
I can see you clearly.

No need to close my eyes and try hard to remember, my heart and mind work together,
and behold, a miracle!
I see you there, using your phone,
A smile on your lips; you're comfortable,
You're at home.

And now look here, do you see?
There is too much space in this bed for two,
Your pillow and my heart awaits;
Where are you?

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