a prayer


I wake up on my side of the bed, as I did that day, and look for you, your warmth, your breath, your eyes’ whisper. The bed now is too vast for loneliness to touch the empty side.

Five years, that’s how long it has been.

I don’t know if I have changed at all; who I was, who I had been, who I have been, and who I am. My life is yet so mundane that it is all decked out with a blank space.

“Everything is going to be okay,” I murmur.





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