Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Breathing, Sleeping, Dreaming

You're sitting on my chest and stealing my breath away. I want it back; it's tiring going through life panting with every step. But I cannot wrest it away from you. You stole it from me, but I let you have it. I could not have stopped you if I tried. And that's the truth.

You're crashing through my dreams. I want them to be strange and crazy, and to help them assuage the loneliness. But you're there and I'm weak. You've cut me off at the knees and I don't want you to leave me alone. You're out there, swimming on the backs of turtles and screaming out from a stage, and I'm always here watching, listening, reaching for you. And when the morning breaks, I find myself alone in a too small bed, cold and with an aching hole in my chest. But that's what my life is now.

You're sitting on my chest and I want you to grab me by the hand and show me how your lips work against mine.

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