Pollito

It hits me the hardest at night.
The loneliness. The emptiness.
The street light breaks through my curtains,
Forcing my eyes to open.
I see shadows dance around my room,
I’m not tired.
But I am lonely.
This couch is not our bed and my skin longs for your touch.
Just touch me. My face. Any part of me.
Tears fill my eyes and the shadows become thoughts, memories.
Fake thoughts that I made up to make it okay.
I’m trying to breathe but all I can think of is how to make this work.
And I can’t work. I’m gasping for air, how does breathing work?
How do I become a me without a you.