Pillow fights by Mark

More than the depravation
Of her softness cuddled into my chest
More than an empty space
In a place lovers would rest.

 More than the vase without flowers
More than a mature bouquet without stems
Shaping into a bedroom place
Which a longing heart condemns.

For the sheets unfold now from just one side
The beautiful woman there no more
No matter how much I want to hold
No matter the extent I try
The emptiness resounds her past untold. 

For it's into another bedroom
Her lifeless pillow is to be found
Flattened by the weight of her soul
Childhood pain and hurt
Taking now their ultimate toll.

The Monster is quiet within
Ironically awakening as she frets with sleep
It shouts of fears and doubts
Hurling stones; pointed sticks
And sentences solitude to the weak. 

Single pillows on beds for two
Shadows partitioning and working in between
I hope tomorrow's sunrise catches the darkness
It's up to her - give her strength - a mighty fight unseen.