My Pillow
The pillow next to me seems lonely, I push it out of place. It seems to ask for something, I guess another face. I snuggle up to mine though, toss the other from my mind. Why should I care, I tell myself, she'd most likely be unkind. I feel a tinge of sadness, my thoughts I cry, repress. I drive it from my consciousness, yet it leads me to distress. I take the lonely pillow, and pretend that it is she. I say a silent lonely prayer, that one day she'll lie next to me. written by: Ticoma(a dear friend) |