A Better Way
The loud rain slapping on the window wakes me up from a dreamless sleep.
The sheets on your side are crumpled and messed up but you’re not here anymore.
I wonder if you were woken up from the rain too. I’m too cozy to get out from the warmth of the comforter and too scared to call for you because what if you’re asleep on the couch?
That has been happening a lot. Me, waking up in the middle of the night and finding your side of the bed empty because you couldn’t sleep on the bed. That is just a better way to say, you couldn’t sleep beside me anymore.
That has been happening a lot. Me, asking if the mattress is annoying you. That’s just a better way to say, am I bothering you too much?
That has been happening a lot. We, giving each other space. That’s just a better way to say, we’re growing apart.
While these thoughts are keeping the sleep away, I find you slyly creeping under the comforter; lazily sliding your arm over me, planting a sloppy kiss on the nook of my neck and whispering a lullaby. That doesn’t happen a lot. That’s just a better way to say, we’ll be alright.
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