143 Mattress Street

When last night
Becomes twilight
She drops dawn
And it cracks
I roll over
No longer are we sleeping back to back
Dawn's pale blue hue
Creeping through
The interspaces of vertical blinds
I swore you closed
But maybe I'm still high
From the events of night's past
My recolections haunt this very morning
So much, she hides
Until I realize its only five
And she doesn't quite come out 'til seven
I missed you
Although in the same bed
The void left between our bodies, apart
Made my heart
Grow fonder
Your finger webs are cold
We didn't hold hands like we use to
Your finger tips are white
They weren't against mine last night
Am I missing something
Besides you
The empty street we left in the middle of the mattress
Your long brown tresses falling off the curb
My side of the block was freezing
Your side?
It looked so peaceful
Though I know it wasn't
From the disagreement earlier in the day before
I tried crossing that very empty street
But your body language said don't bother
So I slept by the corner store
I guess you had to clear your head
Into your own pillow
While you faced the clock
I'm half past making sense of it
Now I'm here
Whispering in your ear
As you sleep
Giving you my all
Your eyes staring at the dark black walls of your eye lids
In a world where nothing seems to last that long
I pray
That when you wake
Your ready to open up

And I left nothing unspoken
But if I did
I pray that your beautiful naked eyes can't see

That your heart is broken