Deprived Of Comfort

No comfort could be found in the spots I've laid without you. Nimble blankets that go without wrinkle. Still fresh, as the pillow fort is soon to fall. The anticipation of awaiting sleep only to toss and turn. Sleepless eyes lay awake convinced That sleep will soon come. The linen of your touch, I wonder if the moon ever has a hard time falling asleep, kept awake by the thought of the sun's splendor. Laying there arm behind its head. Covered by a blanket of stars, The thicket of a comforter, tucked in the thought of you. Hearing oneself in the silence of the night. A glimpse of being swept away by a single thought. Soundlessly, sleep in the comfort of your thought, though in reality I am awake consuming sleep aids