A mattress meant for two.
The first thing we ever bought together.
Couldn't wait to get it home and f*ck you
Something clean, something new.
Almost perfect like the first time.
Every time felt like the first time
This is what I think of while lying on "my" side of the bed.
I look over now and see nothing but space.
The very thing that started this.
Less of me and more of you.
Broken and abandoned like the one we replaced;
and now you're somewhere else, in another bed meant for two.
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Author:
sabibdd (
Offline) - Published: August 23rd, 2016 18:37
- Comment from author about the poem: Still own the same mattress. I was laying in bed one night and was compelled at three in the morning to pick up a pen and write this.
- Category: Love
- Views: 47
Offline)
Comments1
Excellent. It's never as good as the first time.
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