not here, not here

the blanket covers me whole, wrapped around me and i imagine, it’s you.

hovering over me, your sturdy arms keeping me steady. and it’s warm here, safe. i snuggle further into the bed, and breathe.

faintly, in the back of my mind, i can feel the sun rising, feel it’s beams of light shining through my room. my eyes are closed, i can’t see it but can feel it. and it’s irritating. i want the dark. i want you.

faintly, in the back of my mind, i can hear loud voices and muffled footsteps from beyond my door. the family waking awake. and it’s irritating. i want to hear your voice. i want you.

but you are not here, not here (beside me) only your remains that i desperately try cling to.