December 3rd Insomnia

by Holly Blue

The next morning recorded you

Not at your best, but you smile as

You scratch your ear,

The left one;

Your eyes show you in another place

But fighting to stay where you are,

Panic and professionalism;

Key traits in your trade.

Gray hair at odds with your head, an

Affliction of a night of tossing sleepless as you see 

Nothing ahead of you that could fill this void,

But still you got up to go to your window,

You found yourself

Looking

At the moon you visited once

In a well-lit studio, you don't want to be caught 

Staring so you look away

At the bed, empty,

Looming large and intimidating in your head;

Her words traipsing across the sheets,

Her smell in the pillows, her heart opened 

Up on the linens she's never slept on;

You see her guitar in the corner,

Her lipsticks and poems on your desk,

You see the white flash of the bottoms

Of her feet as she tiptoes into

Your bathroom to undress;

You smile and shake your head,

Wishing you could suppress the urge

To call out to make sure she's really 

Not there,

Guiltily abashed when there is no answer.

You look at the clock, it's striking three

As you walk out of the bedroom

To put on a record to listen to 

As the day begins again and you stumble

Over the old adage "If you love something,

Let it go."; though you know what you have to do 

For her;

Not wanting to believe it.