With You

With you,

I didn’t write for a whole year

Because I was so happy,

La la la

In pretty dresses,

My Sunday best,

Your arms warm

wrapped around me like a

fuzzy cocoon,

I didn’t want to wake up.

 

I wrap myself in blankets now,

I traded dresses for trousers,

I don’t wear much makeup anymore;

I am starting to think it was all for you.

Maybe it was,

Perhaps it’s all just a transaction in the end.

 

Perhaps  now I’ll make my own cocoon

And

I will stop waking up at 3am,  wondering how a pillow replaced your chest.

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