Reaching out
across the cold side of the bed;
you're not there,
never were.
The twisted games
the mind plays
on the heart.
How do you mourn
what was never yours to lose?
You smile for someone else,
not they have
what you never claimed:
It's not your place
to regret now.
Lost your chance to protest.
Marks heal
and kisses fade,
it's only memories
that scar.
You're the dirty secret,
the weekend lie.
Without the glamour
of a title
or red stained letter to bear.
Reaching out
for the cold, damp sheets.
Their blank and empty comfort;
they're real.