The Hideout is a short collection of poetry that follows lovers after a tragic accident. It documents their journey as they tried to find their new normal. I hope you enjoy. 

-M

I remember the sun hitting the white sheets in the middle of the day. I was getting up to clean, and she was still lying there. The natural light poured in from the window and drowned her face, forcing her eyes shut while she sang along to her favorite song. She somehow managed to dance with her whole body while she was still laying down, and I’m sure those sheets had never felt happier. I wasn’t getting much done, unless you count memorizing her movements, and the impossible way her smile was brighter than the sun. I keep trying, but I can’t remember her face; it’s just her smile. That’s the last thing I remember, I don’t know how I got here, and I honestly don’t really know where here is.

Why are you crying?  

She wiped away her tears, “I-I’m sorry. I could just picture her opening her eyes and seeing yours record her every motion. I can see you standing there through the sunlight, motionless and mesmerized at the sight of her lying there, dancing in the bed.” 

Yes, you’re right. That’s exactly how it was. Where am I? Where is she? 

She started crying again, but this time she was sobbing uncontrollably. 
"You’ve been in the hospital. You were on your way to work and you got in a car accident. You’ve been in a coma for three weeks."

What? Who are you? Are you my doctor? If you’re my doctor, then why are you crying? What’s going on? 

Why are you crying?

Do you think about me? 
I know that things are different now, and I might just be another person to you, but I need you to understand that you are the reason that I'm here. 
You are the reason that I feel strongly about anything let alone love itself. 
So please, do you think about me?

Is this something that still feels reachable in your head? 
I think about all of the time we spent together in those white sheets, under the blue comforter, and I want to cry but can't help but smile. 
I can still feel the way you used to hold me, the way you used to smile at me when I sang to you. 
I remember them all; I can feel them all.
It feels like I died two months ago when you got in that accident, because I'm not in your head anymore, but with every heartbeat that lives without your echo I'm reminded that I'm alive and suffering without you here. 
So, tell me, do you think about me?