Lovesick

my room is about as lonely
as a threadbare rug and a worm-eaten
coffin, full of rotting sadness and grief.
you still reside in it even if
your smile does not spark and your
scent is fading too quickly.

i can still see the indent
in my mattress where you once
slept because you thought it would
be nice if i hugged you through the
nightmares. i always
wanted to ask what they were about
but you never answered, never

told me the truth.
the second the question left my lips,
your face shuttered and your voice rusted
in your throat until it was so
laced with rust, you could not
even scream.

i embraced you until your
heart started beating again.

but now i am surrounded by
sheets that are too big for just
one person and a pillow that bears
the ghost of your hair,
splayed out in a halo.

wish you were here.