Hangover Mourn (Roula's tune)

Still and silent morning with no sign of your sun
feeling like a missing half of one.
At the moment you walked out the door
there I slept fetal in pangs of silent starvation
for a drop of you
to once again, vibrate in my earnest core.

I hold my heavy head in my hands
profound load, unsteady on my shoulders
like a piling of boulders
withdrawing from the drug of you
last night so near
nearer than any tonic has ever been.

How do I wait to inhale you again,
my sweetest addictive distinctive cocaine?
Though I tremble and jitter in my addiction
the anticipation of your magical spell sustains
and wipes all traces of evaporated aches
from a hangover mourn, heavy with rain