Trapped Memories
It’s a dream until 5am
when the light burns tiny slits
in a window made to hold you here.
No rope, or mad phrases
just the fear of being alone.
And it’s times like this
when the words just don’t come out as they should.
So tomorrow it is
when I can tell you this
“I miss you my darling”
without leaving this room
built around the memories of you.