One of the Many Lonely Nights

Laying in this quiet room, my eyes open long before even the sun has risen.
Staring around this empty room.
Looking past the books shoved into every available space, past the television on it's stand.
Not even looking into the eyes of the smiling face hanging on the wall inviting in their silver frames.
The moon's light making shadow puppets on the objects it lands on, using the objects in the skyline for its given shape.
It all seems so lonely.
I can feel my heart falling deeper into my chest.
Sometimes I think my heart isn't there anymore, but the pain that still resides there refuses to let me think so.
Looking around this room, it is empty.
Not because the space is not being used, because with so much inside it is almost sufficating, but the air is empty.
Without a pressence.
Without feelings.
They were all drained that day.
My eyes sting with the tears that wish to fall, but the summer air refuse to let them form.
There is nothing left of the gifts he's given me.
Not even the letters, drawing, even the sweet stuffed animals are somewhere in the world unknown to me.
Maybe in his home where I took them, hidden somewhere in his closet where he doesn't have to see them.
Then again they just as probably laying somewhere in a dump with the maggots destroying the fabric of the dog's face, rain washing his words of love handwritten in ink into the mud.
The worst image though is not either of those.
But that they are in her room.
My dog laying on her perfectly made bed as she gets ready to see him, my drawings hanging in frames on her walls with my name only a shadow because of the eraser he used.
I turn to face the other way, the wall almost as inviting as the rest of my room.
Eyes following the carvings hidden into the wood.
Did he ever notice our initials written in yellow marker on my mirror?
What about the scrapbooks awaiting to be filled with pictures of us?
Did he notice his shirt hanging on the bed post waiting for the stars to rise so it can be wrapped around my torso for bed?
I wonder where it is now.
Is it hanging in his closet or hers?
I try and close my eyes, to dream and maybe be in his arms without having to think of all this, until the lonely songbird's song wakes me.
I stay still waiting for the darkness to swallow me into my subconscience mind.
Quiet hum of nothing ringing like a siren to my sensitive ears, my heart beat pulsing in every vein of my body with the pain that is weighing down my heart.
It is not dark behind these eyelids of mine.
Instead I am looking into brown eyes framed by the flutter of eyelashes followed by tanned skin.
Nose, forehead, pink soft gently curved lips.
With my eyes closed I see you're face, with it's beautiful smile.
The one that made a mirrored one onto my face for so long, and now makes my tears fall for so long.
Even when I was about to fall asleep the tears break through their prison.
Opening my eyes to see the world in a blur.
Colors blended together, shapes with once visible outlines are disappearing.
For one moment I stare out in front of me.
Blinking doesn't work to let the image in front of me disappear, but I know its not there.
I know... that you aren't there.
But yet I see you.
The face I see when I close my eyes, the one in my dreams.
Laying right next to me staring back into my eyes, your head resting on your arm, legs draped across my mattress.
You're hand reaches out for me.
The closer you get to my face the more I cry.
Then I feel it.
You're finger tips on my skin.
My eyes close and I see all the sweet memories that are attached to your name in my mind.
The howling wind through the alley and wisking into my room whisps past my ear.
And I swear I can almost hear your musical voice whispering through the night.
The three words you took with you when you left.
The ones I wish to hear from the same voice once more.
Just once more.
But I never will.
I open my eyes and it's all the way it was.
You disappear from veiw.
And I wish my mind would have made you stay.
I cry into my hands.
You're haunting.
You are always on my mind.
And a sad fact is you are just fine without me.
Three words only the wind can tell me, only a figment of my imagination made from peices of memories that you left me with that haunt me on nights like this.
Three words I cannot deny that I feel for you.
That I still have for you.
The reason I cry, the reason I smile, the reason this pain is present and the reason why I can't move on.
I love you.

Comments

jwiener

This is a very powerful poem, and it reads almost like a short story. This poem definitely acts as a voice for anyone who has been hurt by someone they love.

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