photo courtesy of sxc.hu

Dear Bed,

I want to thank you.

We have been together for years,
you and I.

You have been there for me every night,
occasionally days, and I’ve not yet
taken the time to tell you I appreciate you.

Even when I left you, sometimes for days,
others weeks, you’ve welcomed me back
with warmth, comfort and softness.

You held me while my tears
soaked your pillows
over lost love and family rows.

And cradled me tenderly as I
lay feeble and weak with illness,
for days without complaint.

You took the thumps
when I’d fling myself on to you
after a tantrum with life and God.

You creaked under the avoirdupois of
many a friends’ butts as we giggled over gossips
and cried over heart to hearts.

And supported me while I lounged
with laptop on knees or lay on you
scribbling papers last minute.

You tolerated me rolling about restless
and sleepless in my attempt to locate that cool
part of you on a hot stressed summer’s eve.

And you let me leave you cold and bare in winter
while I rolled the blanket tightly and selfishly around me,
a human sausage not letting warmth escape.

You patiently embraced piles of outfits
as I dressed for evenings out, and patiently waited
as I came back too late, too tired and patiently endured
til the next day when I bothered to remove the clothes

You held my back as I lay staring at the ceiling,
my head stuffed with dreams and plans for the future;
or sometimes blank with boredom.

The list is endless Bed; I could go on for a lot more.
You indeed have been there for me and so I thank you.

I have one complaint though. I know you didn’t
like me stumbling home 2:30am after late night partying,
but there was no need for you to knock my shins that hard.
Seriously.