almost (by layney hinck)

In warmer nights
Where we grew restless,
My failure to sleep woke you. 
I knew that I stretched myself out, reaching only for you.
But you,
Sliced yourself thin,
Stretching towards the touch of a lighter hand. 
Seeking asylum
From this pitied and pained house,
We both know well.
The paint peeling with each needlessly harsh word.
The floorboards adding new creaks
To their symphony, with
The recalling of every childhood memory
That was punctuated with a bruise.
The carpet that greys with every time
Somebody came back, just to leave again.
The blackened and vaquent fireplace,
That centers it all.
As concave as my heart.
I made myself nothing 
And left you almost alone
In our almost home.