torn apart

You won’t be here with me but I can dream
The sweetest of dreams that linger when I wake
That grasps my breath and take
The very soul within

Goose bumps plague my skin and shake I, as shivers worm through the thin portal of this sweet, sweet dream to reality
A reality where my bed is lonely
A reality where my bed is cold
A reality where your warmth within is but a distant memory

Where the scenery in front of me is as dry and distasteful as the sight of an emaciated dog

The fog won’t lift from my baggy eyes
Nor will the echoes of your taunting moans, laughter and anger.