Not a night passes by
when my hand reaches over to touch
your pillow or your side of the bed
which used to be the space
that you filled up with love.
Abandoned and alone
I fight the memories of you.
In the middle of the night
hour by hour my bed grows colder.
I wonder if you dream of me at all?
Tossing and turning
my nights seem endless.
My body aches for your breath,
for a moment of your warmth.
I wonder if you ever have regrets?
I do regret the moments lost
to tell you what I loved about you most.
I regret that last night when you packed.
Should I have asked you to stay
and I wonder if it would have mattered?
Vote for this poem