Recipe for Disaster

One mistake that could have been prevented

But not easily fixed.

Stir until the bumps begin to smooth out.

Add a dash or glimmer of hope to taste;

Enough that it can still be crushed

But not enough to overpower.

Let sit until it ferments

And spreads

Sinking into the crevices in your brain

Leaving you with nothing

But an aftertaste

Of what could have been.

 

Vacant

She approaches the vacant bed

With caution

And reflects

On all of the late nights

The requests

For him to crawl in next to her

And wrap his arms around her

A warmth that only he could provide

He did this to himself

She thinks

As she climbs inside

Pulls the freshly laundered sheets up to her neck

Where they lie

With a cold but comforting touch

I’m here for you

As she creates her linen cocoon

And drifts to sleep

Without him.