homesick

poem i wrote about the end of a relationship, influenced by the writing style of charles bukowski.

And we built a nest

crawling under the covers,

our home sweet home

beneath cotton sheets. 

I thought we could live there

breathing each other's air,

filling my mouth with the taste 

of your skin. 

But you suffocated slowly; 

I tried to fill you with love, 

whisper to the crumbling walls, 

but still the blankets deflated

and you stopped coming home.

At first, I waited

for you to return to me,

your lungs filled with air;

breathing deeply, waiting

for your chest to rise and

then fall slowly as you drifted

back to sleep.

But so many nights passed

and I forgot how to sleep;

afraid to abandon this place

I no longer called home.

When the sun hit the window

I decided to leave,

packing up all my thoughts;

I opened my eyes �"

as I warily crept out 

from inside the warm den,

the cold air hit me, it hurt 

my bones,

and I saw you, wearing

that tie that I hate

and I knew 

the home we had built

was no longer here;

Alive and both breathing,

sleeping, not dreaming,

in a place we don't live now

except in my mind.

Funny, I suddenly felt

homeless

drinking my coffee, you

saying nothing.

Author's Note

trying to get more of my personal work critiqued and welcome all opinions.