Heart Ache Over Head Ache.

I try to anchor myself
to something substantial
enough, when
insomnia keeps me drifting.

So I'll ink the shadow
of who you use to be
on the walls of my
Too Big
Too Quiet
apartment.

Your shadow,
is so much bigger than who
you are now. You are
trapped within it;
trapped in my Too Big
Too Quiet
apartment.

But you never
talk like you use to.

I spend my nights banging together
pots and pans
trying to get rid of the silence
that got rid of you.

If you ever find yourself sleepless,
it is because I hang your shadow,
weighted with words,
above you.
I am the ever bitter insomniac,
who will keep you up to make sure
you are drifting as much as me.

When morning comes, and
your prescription is filled,
I will be banished back to the
Too Big
Too Quiet
apartment, with your shadow in tow.

I'll admit our conversations
aren't what they use to be
(but I made your shadow twice as pretty.)