Bed of Tears

Pull the blanket tighter.

Feel its warmth, like a

friendly reminder the world has not ended.

For it hasn’t.

Classes continue as if

nothing has happened and no one could

bother to notice if something had.

This room is safe.

Untouched by anyone uninvited,

it is the one place left to curl up and cry.

Dying could be an option

as well, considering how bleak everything looks

from the bed.

No one seemed particularly shocked

when it happened, when he gave up

with a curse and all capital letters.

His temper had been bound to flare,

but maybe that had been the goal all along?

Thousands of miles had been filled

with yelling, fighting, a green-eyed monster

over something that never happened,

and probably never would have.

And when the distance was reduced,

silence unforgivingly invaded and any

love felt, lost.

Turn the pillow to the

cooler side, for surely it has dried

by now. Let it soak up the tears that make this bed.

I have made it,

and until some saving grace determines otherwise,

here I shall lie, alone.