The birds are too loud this morning.
Chirping out a happy song,
Belting out their hearts,
This is not where I belong.
This place of constant beauty,
Reeking with eternal grace.
There's something wrong inside,
A feeling I can't displace.
I can't stand these plain walls.
Behind their decorative hangings,
And the words that I've written,
Something is always banging.
This chill that fills my bed,
That my covers seem to make,
The need for the physical touch,
A new habit I can't break.
Since that first warm night,
I missed what started then.
Each night I lay my head,
And wish it was again.
Wrapping me with ecstacy,
Warmth swallowed me whole.
I need you to be here again,
And fill in your loving role.
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