Nightly Events

I'm used to sleeping alone at night in my bed. No one there.

I'm used to being unloved and unwanted at night, feeling the touch of a bullet.

I'm used to being forlorn and forsaken, dead inside during dark hours. Inside and out. I'm used to having no lover to get wet and sweaty with, damn hot eroticism. Not in my bed or life.

I'm used to having no one hold me close when I need to be loved. Leaving me loveless and lifeless.

I'm used to not hearing precious words like, 'Nick, you mean the world to me and fill my life with joy. I'm so in love with you,' whispered under the covers.

I'm used to loneliness that cuts like a knife in the middle of the night. At times I have a blade.

Real darkness like aggravated anxiety making my heart beat irregular.

Debilitating depression floors my mind.

Engulfed by excesses of drinking, poor liver. No replacement for a lover.

I'm used to low quality gals who try to use me, good riddance bitches!

I'm so not used to you being here. Stay or go?