The stars on my ceiling will guide
me tonight. The neon-green shams
of moons will watch me as I sleep.
They will be my comrades as I
battle having to dream about you.

My night lights and I know
that when you sleep you do 
not dream of me, you are not
dreaming of me, you are not
dreaming of me.

I lay next to you and wish
you rest.  But, when you lay
next to me do you wish me
anything?

I can feel heartache blooming
in the space where your name
used to shine.