As soft as the fading light of the evening 

Plays chess Against my windowsill,

How the shadows cast the shape of you

Across my room like a hologram of my dreams;

Such a foul mimicry on a Monday morning,

I awake with a familiar tremor on my lips,

The parody of an earthquake;

As if I'd grown roots overnight, my bed a graveyard 

My body a corpse 

The memory of you as heavy as the tombstone that

Nestles in-between my hollowed crown;

A heartless projector it seems; playing on broken repeat

my leg swiftly leaning over my bedframe and being met

With solid ground instead of

A thick dense air,

The light, 

How I sadly marveled at the way it softly

Caressed your picture on my wall as if 

To cradle a baby,

How jealous I had been of it;

If only I hadn't been 

Haunting my own apartment

I would have had the strength

To cradle you, too