Chrysanthemums

I swore I could feel the weight of your chin on my shoulder this morning but it was just a decorative pillow. I was bombarded with chrysanthemums and dahlias and reds and yellows and it fucking hurt. I threw you off of my bed and rolled over, but I still couldn't sleep.

Twin beds can only conceal so much.
You're fucking stuffed and I'm never hungry and
I don't know how to do anything anymore.
I can't even sleep

I don't even miss you is the thing.
A pillow can always be replaced
I just miss the weight and indentations
in my sad white sheets.