At The Ceiling.

Do you stare up at your ceiling, hoping to make out a shape that looks like my face?

I still see your face in everything I do, all the time, fighting to make it fade away. Go away.

No, don't get ahead of me, this poem is not about you or him.

It's not about anyone, it's about everything and no one at the same time.

When all the laughs have been shared and beers have been drunk, do you think about me?

In his face, in your face, my face... I see everyone else flash before my eyes.

He adds a spark to my life that I haven't had in a long time.

I still turn to the sky to watch the sunset spreading over my head, thinking I'll see you in it.

Do you ever see those please we once stood and think I want my love back?

At the end of the night it is all the same with me pretending hold you in my hands like something precious.

His bright blue eyes sit across from me and look back with a smile, but those brown eyes burn somewhere far away.

If he asks, do you want to go somewhere? I'm going to say yes.

My ceiling will have a new image to share and my tears will claim a new reason.