Counting Hours

1 o’clock, 3 o’clock, 4 o’clock

4:30, 5 and so on.

I count the hours ‘til morning

chasing you through my dreams.

I dream of you here, I dream of you gone

both poignantly tell the tale.

I dream of your face, I dream of your skin

I can actually feel you here.

I dream of your weight on the pillow

I feel your breath on my skin.

I hear your voice and awaken

to the reality that you are not here.

I dream of myself running, screaming

through the streets calling out your name.

 I dream that I’m begging for mercy

yet no one can hear me scream.

I try through the day to counsel myself

my lonely and aching heart.

To understand the reality

that you have left me here.

I stay busy and try to focus on things

 to deter the thoughts of you.

But then I come home to this room

full of books and silence and me.

You creep in slowly as the evening passes

you slip in through the cracks in the walls.

You lay down next to me in this lonely bed

and like a ghost you sing me to sleep.

Through the night you actively haunt me

and I cannot escape thoughts of you.

I know you are gone, I understand

but my heart just can’t set itself free.