Dead Friend
By ceratophrys
I grab your hand as I jolt up out of bed,
Searching for a way to feel empty.
I squeeze your palm and you turn over to look at me,
And you sigh.
The next morning I get out of bed,
My head has left an imprint on the pillow.
I look over behind me
And see that you aren’t there,
Fear bubbles up inside of me
I see that there has been no evidence of you being here,
And the covers on your side of the bed are still made.
I grip the bed sheets and lie back down,
Closing my eyes,
Trying my best to dream of a world
With you in it.
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