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I've written at least half a dozen
poems describing the little things.
Your keys and the way you walk.
Your hair and the way you drive.
The things we did
like cuddling real close
and being very cute.

But here's another,
because we aren't close right now.
You're sleeping in your bed made for one,
and I'm sleeping in a bed made for two.
So I'm writing a poem
to poke at loneliness and tell him to go away
he's not welcomed tonight.

And it's a poem to tell you
in words you'll never see
that it's been a long time
and nothings changed.
If the past years were erased
and I saw your face
I'd do the same thing.
I'd come up to you and say something.
I'd get your number I'd ask to see you again.
And maybe we'd still come the mutual agreement,
because that's what it was.

Maybe this time though
it'd be more of a forever thing
and loneliness would never be either of ours
bedfellow again.