The sun shining through your dark drapes,
I wake to find you facing the wall-
I used to sleep in your arms.
You’re making those noises you do when you’re dreaming,
that light soft breathing that used to help me sleep,
tonight just seems loud and heavy and keeps me restless.
The warmth of your skin that used to give me solace feels sweltering,
the three words that meant everything have lost all semantics,
and I feel isolated in the embrace that once felt like home.
Because my mouth tastes like stale cigarettes and black bourbon,
but I don’t even smoke and I prefer light liquor,
and my one bad habit came with a list of ten,
because I tip toe in the middle of the night on cold tile floors,
I would rather wake up by my lonesome
than begin my day with the view of someone’s bare back.
Waking up in your bed for the last time,
I lift the empty bottle, push the carton aside.
I left a letter on your nightstand.
Author Bio:
Sidney Relyea is currently a senior at Union College in Schenectady, NY and an English major with a minor in Classical Civilizations. Sidney's writing experience begins with writing short stories about dogs in first grade, to winning the Writing and Rhetoric Award out of the high school graduating class, to being Editor in Chief of the Oydssey Online.
I wake to find you facing the wall-
I used to sleep in your arms.
You’re making those noises you do when you’re dreaming,
that light soft breathing that used to help me sleep,
tonight just seems loud and heavy and keeps me restless.
The warmth of your skin that used to give me solace feels sweltering,
the three words that meant everything have lost all semantics,
and I feel isolated in the embrace that once felt like home.
Because my mouth tastes like stale cigarettes and black bourbon,
but I don’t even smoke and I prefer light liquor,
and my one bad habit came with a list of ten,
because I tip toe in the middle of the night on cold tile floors,
I would rather wake up by my lonesome
than begin my day with the view of someone’s bare back.
Waking up in your bed for the last time,
I lift the empty bottle, push the carton aside.
I left a letter on your nightstand.
Author Bio:
Sidney Relyea is currently a senior at Union College in Schenectady, NY and an English major with a minor in Classical Civilizations. Sidney's writing experience begins with writing short stories about dogs in first grade, to winning the Writing and Rhetoric Award out of the high school graduating class, to being Editor in Chief of the Oydssey Online.
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