Im trying to fit the gap that you left. Under the covers, by the pillow, the space between the wall and my body.
Could it be that you've made a secret promise with the bed, to keep me awake at night when you're not there?
Everytime my fingers traced the dent you left on the pillow, my mind raced back to you. To the way your head tilts when we talk, the way you touched my hand just to show you care, the warmth of your laugh when you caught yourself rambling.
Why did you do that? Why did you stop being here? Why can't I sleep without wishpering your name in between my Dear God and Amen? And still I can't sleep. Not tonight. Maybe not with you stuck in the what ifs.
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