Dewdrops on my window,
slide down or pensively linger,
I run my hand down as they slide,
the way I ran it across your finger.
Your side of the bed,
I make everyday,
unaware inside,
at night you are not beside,
but I am a slave to my ways.
Morning brings newer thoughts,
newer memories of our life,
the dreams,the hopes,the answers sought,
keeping me at the edge of knife,
my thoughts holding the handle,
for when it gets too painful to reflect
squeeze in...blow out the candle.
I can put away the pictures
on the mantelpiece and by the bed..
What fate of the images
that appear and fade inside my head?
To live a life without you dear,
I promised afore your pyre,
but now I see the cards life has dealt,
turning me into a liar…
I know every tear that I shed,
they say it hurts you too,
why go through this charade of the living,
I pray for death to have life with you.
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