_Missing_

Rain splashes against the roof,
Making a sound like drums
In a marching band.
The bed is cold
And empty
Without her in it.
I stare up at the ceiling
My thoughts clouded
With worry and confusion.
That word.
'Missing'...
I hate that word.
Full of emptiness,
Completely lacking empathy.
For a second, I almost hear
Someone calling my name
Through the storm.
But it's just my
Imagination.
It must be.