When I speak, do you hear the echo of something hollow? You must, because your eyes look through me as if I’d lost my substance. I want you to know, this was filled with something pretty once. A universe full of far off places and paradises and worlds that were my own. I brought you on this journey, but found your bags, full of vipers and carpet snakes, secretly hidden beneath the bed we made vows on. Frightened, I tried to throw them out when you quietly unpacked them, hoping you wouldn’t notice. I hoped you wouldn’t notice the angry one that slipped out and coiled in my eyes, but then I found the traps when I pulled the covers back. You panicked and said you were cold, quickly pulling the covers tighter around you, but it was too late, I’d seen them. I pleaded with you and tried showing them to you but you became angry and told me to get back. Back to what? You brought everything with you. It’s all right here. No, it isn’t, you said, and your eyes told me we were missing our far off places and paradises and worlds that were our own. We could still go there, I tell you. We’ll just leave the snakes behind. But you silently pack your traps in the bags beneath the bed and leave a different kind of hollow. A pretty place to fill.
I had a description then I took it away :) .. it reads better if you inject your own self into it.