Empty spaces

The window was open, the breeze drifted down

icy fingers grazed my cheek. The bed was small,

sheets dark like the night sky. The breeze chilled

the empty space beside me. Him gone, me alone.

My body, broken and scared, twisted in the covers meant

to bring warmth, rub my bruised body. My skin pricked with needles

at every movement in my sleeplessness. My tears fell

and became snowflakes in the air.

A scream threatened in my chest, the room cluttered

with things, his things, oppose the emptiness of what he took from me.

The closet door was open, it pushed back the gray

threads of the mangled carpet, clothes spilled out.

His shirt hung loosely off my shoulder. He was in the other room,

sprawled on the couch, “It’s too hot” he said. Yet my cheeks

imitated the color of his red shorts. I called him back wanting something.

The window was open, the breeze drifted down

icy fingers grazed my cheek. The bed was small,

sheets dark like the night sky. The breeze chills

the empty space beside me. Him gone, me alone.