Ain’t No Sunshine

We’ve been apart for a while now.
I’d lie and say I don’t remember how long it’s been,
to prevent myself from appearing desperate,
but I remember.
The last time my hands were on you,
was March 9, 2020,
at approximately 10PM.

The distance is killing me,
depression has set in,
there’s nothing I can do,
but wait.
My only solace,
is knowing,
that you are waiting for me too.

I have to confess,
I went to see you last night.
I drove over,
parked the car,
and peered into the window.
There you were,
looking like you were sleeping.
The “Do Not Touch” sign was sitting on your closed lid,
and ropes were around you,
to keep you safe.
I didn’t know if I should smile or cry,
so I did both,
and walked away,
that when it’s time,
I will show up in a black tank top,
like I always did,
and we will pick up right where we left off,
you are my Baby Grand.

About Blinded by Bukowski

40 y/o female with a pen and a piano. Reading between the lines, sometimes skipping a few.
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