The Bedsheet Sprawl

Once I told you,

I wanted to grow old with you.

And look at us now – not quite old, love,

But getting there.

My thinning hair and your three-mile stare

Past the TV set to nowhere.

I’d join you there if you’d let me, 

In that place you go to forget me,

But I know it’s the secrets you keep, 

That keep you here with me.

I surrounded you, enfolded you

With my arms, my promises,

And an acre of cheap wood paneling,

To keep you warm at night.

Still I worried someday you’d

Get chilly anyway, and your heart would stray

Whether your body ever did.

Who am I now when you look at me? 

Am I bleeding

From cuts that only you can see?

While you cling to your edge of the bed,

And I pretend to sleep.

In the morning we drift 

Past wedding photos on the shelf 

Smiling under dust

In spite of ourselves,

With shackles of trust binding us

To the shadows we drag across the floor,

From our bed

To the living room door,

Then out into a world we don’t fit in anymore 

Without each other.

Once I was your lover,

And I held your hand as you cut the cake,

And yours and mine toasted the family we’d make.

We believed in it so.

Now look at us, drifting dreaming along,

With this other person we used to know.

I wanted to die 

With your name on my lips,

And our children at my bed,

But instead,

You keep this house too clean, too cold

And I’m just watching you age as I get old.

We might as well already be dead.

Remember what I said? I told you I’d stay,

That I’d cherish you more every day,

And hold you every night in between.

What a dream.

But loyalty's nothing but a sad routine, 

And a lifetime is a lot shorter than it seemed 

When we were young,

And lost,

And in love.

Now we’re just lost.