The bed is empty

This October chill has caught me off guard

The bed is empty

Save for its usual occupant

Love once filled every inch

Sometimes I wonder where it went

Still the bed is empty

Because I'd rather sleep alone

Instead of suffer alongside a lover who is accident prone

Though accidents happen all the time

But if there is no body

There was no crime

I'd rather be a prisoner

Than surrender mine

To yet another inconsistent, inconsiderate part time lover

When unintentional insults trade places with seductive words

Oh, have you not heard?

The bed is still empty

And love is a verb

She wants to speak of numbers

I do not wish to play along

The list isn't long

Because I never lead them on

It's rare that someone catches these tired eyes

Rarer still for me to let down the drawbridge to let some body inside

Am I only filling a void until

The mood calls for another to fill her void

Is it just a question or a not so flattering form of body swapping

Where he is me

But when this happens

Then who am I

Because the bed is still empty

Save for its usual occupant

And as usual I forget myself when she arrives

I slip into thoughts of what lives between her thighs

But the bed is still empty

And it will stay empty

Until I find some body that is at least half mine