Pendulum

At two, I stay awake for you.
At five, my dreams tug at my blanket;
force-feed the cold of your absence.

I snuggle against the fabric-made warmth again,
but it's not the same; our routines were tainted.
I see what you're reading but I'm no part of your memory.

You say you listen, but I'm talking to deaf ears.
Your mind's a storage of my hugs and kisses,
but every day, one wish of mine fades away.

***

At two, I wonder about your dinner.
At five, I think you must've forgotten about me,
lulled to sleep by nothing but a fantasy.

When the door closes and I step into winter again,
I wonder if I'll glide beneath a car, slip into a mistake,
for I have done nothing but tortured you.

My hands are numb, I sit and wait like you do.
No piano, no pencil, could take away this longing,
yet I keep running. I run, I run, hoping for a car crash.

***

At two, I stay awake for you.
At five, my nightmares have come true.

***

Goodbye.