Empty

That haunting silence of night.

Perpetually echoing the loneliness and solitude confined to an empty room.

An empty bed.

The constant ticking of the clock my only companion. 

The clammy sheets my only warmth.

There was a time the night was filled with music, warm, welcoming.

A time when I was whole.

Before I met any of them that ripped me apart and left with shards of my heart to mount as trophies on their mantels. 

The night used to be my home. 

My solace, my comfort, my peace.

Now only the silence haunts me.

The music has gone, the life, the contentment.

All gone.

Left.

Silence.