The Sweatshirt

The silence of the room is not overwhelming, It is peaceful, The perfect template for imagination and dreaming. No noise disrupts trains of thought No whisper breaks through the wall of the mind. The darkness is not unnerving, It is only emptiness Not flourished and flamboyant But rich and full. I lie in my bed Alone With nothing but myself And his sweatshirt. I close my eyes willingly, Even though it doesn’t make the darkness any darker Or the silence even quieter. It just makes the imagination clearer. I pull your sweatshirt close Searching the folds for a pocket of your scent. Finally, I find it- The essence of a summer of bliss The remnants of curling up by a fire A reminder of the safety of your arms Arms that kept me safe… But couldn’t do the same for you. I hear your voice But I know you are not near The two week old voicemail cannot bring me the sparkle in your eyes When you tell me you love me. I know if I open my eyes And interrupt my dreams with a light I could see your face But the hug trapped underneath the glass cannot comfort me with your hand When you caress my head. As I fall into sleep And let the dark of night swallow me Allow the swirls of hope and love and memories to enter my mind I sense your presence But my dreams will fade when I awaken So I sleep Because when I wake up, You will still be gone. Because The silence couldn’t save you The darkness couldn’t save you I couldn’t save you. I bury my head in your sweatshirt And wish it was you.