And I don't know if this is a poem, or a blurb a little too long in my head, but you're on my mind.
And I want to be able to reach out, call you over to me, pretend as though there aren't lines I have to dance around or enemies in your own mind I have to dodge.
I wish I didn't care what you think of me.
I wish I didn't need your touch to feel good, or your breath to feel worthy.
But I wish you needed me.
There are a thousand things I wish, and I guess that's what it all comes down to.
Wishing.
That things were different, better, useful, passionate, and inspiring.
I guess the bottom line is that I feel those things when I'm with you.
I guess the bottom line is that I want my life to be encompassed with those feelings, submerged down into the depths, unable to breath without the humming nature of feeling right.
You feel right.
And the rest of the time it's just like floating.
Waiting for the next wave or change in temperature just to confirm that these nerve endings still fire in your absence.
But your absences are long.
And I ache, ache, ache for you.
In a way that's like poison, because you're all I can think about and not mine to take.
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