insomniac

The stars and moon wink at her from the sky as she steps out of his car.
The crunch of ice glazed snow beneath their steps fills the silent air.
She clasps her hot cup of sweet cocoa.
They swing simultaneously. Back and Forth.
Beneath the blackboard sky dusted in stars
they gaze into the deep unknown.
They pass cocoa back and forth, sharing sips.
Sharing secrets.

What she didn't tell him is that her heart is numb. Numb from the cold cruelty of the world.

Now she lay alone with the fears of her world.
Snow falls and presses soft kisses against her bedroom window.
She wiggles her toes to make sure she's still alive.
And then her heart hurts.

The clock says "3:00" but she doesn't listen.
She can't sleep. She can't dream. She can't function.
She needs him close, but he's so far away.
She swears she can hear his heart beating.
It used to match her own.