Alone is just a concept

There is a silence in my head
that shies away from all thoughts of you
and the haunting recollection of our words

The days pass in acceptable emptiness
maybe the sun shone, I wouldn’t know
when I am too busy looking inwards

My grand escapist gesture
to get lost in the pages of a book
where I know I won’t find your face

When night trickles in with a garnishing of frost
my bed seems like a grave without you
and my silence screams for some kind of noise
just so I don’t have to sleep alone

© Indie Adams 2012