The Dip

The bed still holds the shape of where you lay,

the hollow hums a memory’s low refrain.

I lie within the dip and fade away.

-

The night folds soft, but nothing stays that way—

the sheets still whisper your familiar name.

The bed still holds the shape of where you lay.

-

The scent of you won’t wash, it only frays,

a sweetness caught in linen, sharp as pain.

I lie within the dip and fade away.

-

The air goes still, the dark forgets to pray,

each breath a tug toward something I can’t claim.

The bed still holds the shape of where you lay.

-

There’s mercy in the drowning, so they say,

but mercy never learned to love the same.

I lie within the dip and fade away.

-

The weight of you grows heavier each day—

the quiet keeps on calling out your name.

The bed still holds the shape of where you lay;

I lie within the dip and fade away.