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Writer's pictureC. Reis

As I Lay in Bed

Another day has ended. Another page turned.

I lay here in bed not speaking a word. My mind soon wonders. My thoughts come alive.

The need for your love, your touch and embrace. the need to see those dimples across your beautiful face.

It’s eating me alive. the feeling inside.

am I naive to feel like you are still here?

I feel like this is a cruel joke. I can’t accept what’s happened. its simply not true. when I close my eyes, all I want to see is you.

the day has ended. my body is at rest I gaze to my feet tucked tightly in bed. beyond my feet lies a picture

a picture of you. behind that picture is the physical you.

there are four mason jars. some hold rock

some hold dust. beyond those jars is a white cardboard box.

the cremations of Courtney Ann Reis, the box so kindly reads. inside there is another plastic capsule for me to unleash. in that box there’s a plastic bag. a bag that holds your heart. a bag that makes me feel like you’re lightyears apart.

a plastic bag with dust. that’s all that’s left

at the end of the day I’m left to deal with the rest. the pain and sorrow your name brings to me.

the love and light I picture you to be.

my love, why did this happen? why did you leave in this way? I wish for even a moment more

your soul was here to stay.

you were so beautiful. so radiant and light. my Love you were perfect. so intelligent and kind

your hugs could keep me going,

your smile was contagious.


my Love, you were my everything

and even now you are-

you‘re the one I talk to

when I see a shining star.

I hate that white box

that sits at the end of my bed.

I hate the sorrow when I see it

I hate those thoughts in my head.

my love. I hope you’re with me. I hope you see me.

that you’re at peace. but most of all my love,

I hope your spirit can be free.

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