Half Asleep

I’m laying there half awake. I always remember this, as I always think about it before I sleep the first night, again without you. I always lay there half empty. Always on the verge of tears. My stomachs lying on the floor and I feel sad. Really very sad.

I know what I want, but I can’t have it. I’m not very good at this game. I’ve always been great at getting my way, turning tables to suit, and finding a way to make them things happen. Now, it’s all out of my power. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or bad? But I don’t like it at all. I lay awake cursing myself, the situation because it’s not what I want. I don’t want to be alone here, now, in this bed, all by myself. I don’t want it.

I remember what I want. I don’t honestly think I ask for much. You’d be the one to know that for what it is. I’m half asleep, all by myself and thinking about what I’m wanting.