I can sense the blanket that covers me,
but cannot feel the normally soft texture.
I stare at the green shirt hanging on the soft blue wall,
and picture how it would compare to the green wall behind me.
No longer is what I see, and what reality is, the same it seems.

For if the lights turned off, it would remain the same,
the space around me.
The shadows that are cast, would remain, in my eyes.
The color and details, no, they would not leave.
The colors of the walls, yes, they would show.
And yet, the only thing reminding me, is not the picture you see,
And you yourself are not to blame.

The blanket, would still protect from the cold,
the patterns, they would dance,
tell their stories that had remained untold.

But you, if you asked I would say, still linger in my dreams.
I once thought we wouldn't end, thought
no one could tear us apart. The problems is,
it was us we didn't anticipate, not them.
We tore ourselves apart. No longer our feelings keen.

All alone now, I begin to miss,
not you, but the feeling you gave me.
The smile you bestowed upon my face,
those feelings will come back, I sit and wish.

I picture you, as you kissed my face,
would we have been different, if only we knew what to anticipate?