Tiny Plastic Houses

My Confession to You…

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wait for you.. as if you’d come…

I think of your face, your eyes… Your lips. The way your voice sounds or how you smell…

I wonder if you are happyor are you sad? Are you thinking? Is life turning out as you’d planned?

I wonder where you are now or what you are doing… What does your day entail? Your night?

Have you accomplished everything you set out to accomplish today…

Are you sleeping? Awake?

But then, I wonder  if there is a spot in your brain for me?

I wonder if you are thinking of me…
When you think of sex or when you laugh or when you dress… When you’re hurt or upset…

Do you imagine me there or do you wish me away?

Is there anything more reserved for me than a passing fragmentof thought meant for any girl that fulfills a certain need?
Am I special? Do you reserve those thoughts for me or do you do this every night with someone else?

In a year, will you still know me? Would you deny me on the street if I were to pass by? Do you get excited when you think of me or do you not think of me at all? Do you think of ways to make me happy or do you not care so long as I’m there when you need me?

I wonder if there will come a day when you are gone forever…
When you decide you no longer have a use for me… when you leave my friendship behind… outgrow me…

Would you miss me in a thousand days?
Would you miss my jokes or my laugh or my eyes? Would you think of me? Dream of me?

If I ask, please, will you think of me in that space between wake and sleep?

At times, I wonder if you’ve already gone…

But, yes, sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wait for you… as if you’d come…

And that’s my confession to you…

~H

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 11th, 2009 at 9:26 pm. It is filed under Writing and tagged with poetry, prose. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.