There is a parade outside my window, and the thunder plays the drums. The wind provides itself. Raindrops are the chorus in this song. I can feel the lightning flashing just behind my eyelids. It's on stormy nights like these that I remember so fondly sleeping so calmly beside you. A collection of pillows and blankets doesn't do the trick. But your kiss, your kiss could hold me tighter than your arms ever could. A chamomile kiss could do wonders. If I can make it through tonight, I think that I'll be alright.

Sometimes I'll see faces where there aren't. Sometimes I'll hear the floorboards whimper under footsteps that aren't mine. You never wanted to believe in ghosts, too scary, these were the sounds of guardian angels. I can almost hear their harps. Almost nostalgic. Songs of what never were and what used to be. The ghosts take me back at night to when I was a little kid, an infant, and the stars would circle around my head by a string. I miss the days when the universe revolved around me. I would be reminded of it every time you touched my thigh. The ghosts can take me back to those better times, but I don't know what's a dream anymore.

You would peel the clothes off my body, and your fingertip caress would bring new life to me. Random pecks from red lips would leave trails to find your way back. You never did. I never complained. Cologne never could hide my intentions. Pins and needles flow from head to toe and back again. Before I would wake up with a smile on my face, now I just wake up alone. A neighbor's baby cries and this dream is over.

The wind is the blood circulating this room. Close the windows. I don't feel like living today. I'm cold and alone under these blankets, and there is no warmth left for me to steal. I wish I could die in this fetal position. I should be safe in this bed, but hope is somewhere out there with you. When I first touch down with my feet, I hear the sound of an echo's creak, I can't differentiate between the floorboards and my knees anymore. My tell-tale heart beats on your side of the bed. Everything feels so empty without you. I could go for your kiss, chamomile or cyonide, either one all the better. All I can do now is nothing. Everything feels empty without you. Watch the door. Another night without you will kill me.