He left one morning.
Packed his bags and disappeared.
I didn't even hear him go.
I'd known for some time it would happen.
It was just a matter of when.
Normally I took my time getting out of bed.
But today, my eyes snapped open.
Wide as the sky.
I lay in my bed.
The soft white sheets entwined with my legs.
The mattress was new.
Duck feather, the salesman had said.
Soft, he'd said.
That morning, it was as hard as nails.
And stone cold too.
He didn't need an excuse or reason.
I knew exactly why he'd left.
I'd do the same if I could.
But you can't leave yourself.
Or change the past.
My mouth was a broken printer.
I was running out of ink
Not all the words came out.
I was leaving out parts of the story.
The truth part.
Spitting up lie after lie.
Choking on my dishonesty.
He had to put up with me for so long.
Each time he found out, I promised to stop.
I had a chance.
To hold onto the one person who loved me.
I blew it.
Now I'm alone.
Left laying in my bed of lies