Feb 23, 2017 | 0 comments

A hotel room is a lonely place

when checking in for one.

Two unmistakable human imprints

remain on this mattress from years of use,

forcing my own body to awkwardly

find rest atop the mountainous middle

Lying in those valleys is too personal;

my shape coinciding with that of a stranger

who listened tenderly to the heavy breathing

and soft snores of a lover sound asleep beside them.

Feet intermingled and fingers laced together

under this same blanket that right now

crushes me and keeps me from sleep,

like your heavy arms around my body

when all I want is the corner of the bed to myself.

I thought I could find some peace and quiet from you

in this goddamn hotel room,

but as I lie amongst these ghosts

I realize that this space could not be further

from empty.

About the Author

Lauren Neely

Guest contributor