The Beginning

You wake up
With heaviness
A twist in your brain
An uncomfortable quiver
Dull, bitter pangs
You can’t remember at first
Where this comes from
Thinking that maybe
He’s sleeping on his back,
Like he always does,
Beside you
Still dreaming
Still breathing
Sweating his musky scent
That you love so much
Permeating your skin
And hair,
Rich and warm.    

He’s gone
The sheets are chilly,
And dry  
Vulnerable to your tears
To the cold breezes
Sliding in from the cracked window
By your bed.
He’s gone.  
That’s right.  
You cringe to avoid the sting
That still comes
And possesses you
No matter what you do
It will tear you apart
Until time has weathered
The heart strings
And your open wound
Scabs into a crusty lump
Tears begin to dry
And you spread your arms
And legs to warm the sheets
Where once he laid.