It is spent with my thoughts running crazy about you.
A bed, supposed to be a status of comfort,
I have baptized it a status of turmoil.
I am restless, turning and rolling on my sides,
Hallucinating that you are laying on the other side
and forward I stretch out my cold hand.
To feel your presence only to be met by a cold, empty surface.
Then my heart sinks the more.
It is hard to get me some sweet sleep,
My bedroom, it is now like a romantic torture cell.
The lonely night. Such a heartless, emotionless, cold lonely night.
I only wish that you help me turn tomorrow’s into a “couples night”.