In This Bed

Alone and freezing,
watching the hours tick away.
Afraid to go to sleep,
of what it might bring.

The bed is so cold
and unwelcoming,
it feels like a sheet of ice
against bare skin.
With nobody there,
no warmth to share,
no arms to bury herself in.

Closing her eyes,
calming her mind.
Lying very still,
and trying not to shake.
Deep breaths to relax,
bring heaving sobs instead.

It doesn't feel right,
this bed,
his bed.
Tears so hot they burn
streaks into her cheeks,
leaving wet spots on the sheets.

Struggling to gain control,
to remain silent.
But every sound echos
off the empty walls.
Sounds of her despair,
repeating,
repeating.

Choking cries and aching body,
curling up,
into herself.

He's not there to save her,
to take her away.
But she thinks
as her heart is cracking,
"He'll be back,
he has to come back.
He's coming back,
isn't he? Isn't he?!"