Something About You Being Gone

There’s Something About You Being Gone. I lay there looking at your side of the bed and my rest isn’t complete. I’m lost in the nights without you beside me… morning can’t come fast enough. I grabbed my pillows and comforter and sleep on the side of the bed, on the floor. The bed: the place where we talk in humbleness and truth. The bed; where everything we had was sacred and real. In The bed; the world doesn’t exist when we’re lying next to each other. The bed; every movement was like poetry, in sync, a perfect fit. You once stated that we needed all that space to do what needed to be done. I was tempted to throw the bed away because of too much space. But when you’re not here, the bed and pillows don’t feel the same, the covers don’t cover right, the sheets are cold and the mattress is uncomfortable. There’s something about lying in the bed without you that I just can’t get use too. In The bed; where we make love till the morning came. The bed; where confession were made and hearts were mended. The bed; where moments were written in stone and time was precious. The bed; when a single touch and a sigh gave feelings light to be seen. There’s something about you being gone and I’m left in that big bed alone. When you’re gone, my heart aches, my body is anxious for your touch. I ball up in a knot on the floor to forget the place where you use to lay. And I sleep in peace.

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