Cushioning the weakness within on those lonely nights she embraces her pillow. Smuggles it under the blankets to feel warmth. Hugs it close creating the illusion of love once held in the same measures. There’s no room for pain. Or tears. The bulk of him still weighs her down. Collapses her breath. Dulls her pulse. Heightens her senses. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. Damn clock. The quilt is heavy. Shrouds her in darkness; covers the lie she creates every night. He’s not there. Not really. Subconsciously she knows he never was there. Not really. Now asleep; the dreams she had in waking hours can come alive. She embraces the ‘him’ she had hoped he would be. The pillow falls to the ground cold and unwanted. Awake in the morning. Without him. No shroud; she too is cold and unwanted. 

She embraces nothing.