I can't shake the desire for your strong arms.
But you have shaken off all your desire for me.
I can't help but wish that I hated you more.
That I didn't want to feel the warmth of your skin.
But I do.
I want to place my arm just close enough to your chest that my hairs tickle your skin.
I want to remember how to abandon my caution with you.
But in your wake, I am finding my scars.
I am feeling my emotional mortality.
Bricks seem strong, but over time they crumble.
And I want your lips.
I want your thighs.
I want your kiss.
I want to be the reason for your impious eyes.
Clutch me.
Know me.
No.
It's not even like wishing for the dead to rise,
but for the return of a ghost
that was never fully embodied to begin with.
I have never know rejection
so deeply
until I thought - for a moment - that I was chosen.
But I want you so badly. That truth remains.
I tell myself I don't.
I tell myself you're not worth wanting.
But it stings every time I unconsciously reach for you.
No wine makes me forget.
No laugh makes me forget.
No hours - no space impacts this feeling.
There is ebbing, but it always returns.
To have loved and lost -
leaves a chasm.
With a particular shape.
And all I can say,
is that maybe the rain will wash it,
and change its shape,
and even fill it in a bit over many, many years.
Some combination of *Your presence and my crying,
the rain will come.
Inevitable.
Drenching.
Chilling.
Revival.
Awake.
Opening my eyes, I search for *You.
I could say, *You know, due to my horrible experiences,
I do believe I deserve someone better.
Someone to be the opposite of disappointment.
And *You would give that to me, I'm sure.
But I could ask for something greater.
The truest, fullest experience.
The love that goes beyond loving
as we know it, being merely human.
I could ask for someone new to fit into that chasm and overflow my heart.
Or I could let *You do it.
It will be impossible - nearly - to overcome this longing for warm flesh.
But *You became flesh.
And in a different way, *You can be so much closer.
Present.
One.
It will be harder to wait for.
And fight for.
And the two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive.
But there's something to that.
*YOU are the opposite of a rebound.
*You are fullness and healing instead of band-aids.
And I love *You.
Help my pain not un-focus that for me.
I love *You.
And *You are like an encompassing warm wind
that transports me to *Your kingdom-
A wormhole whirlwind.
Touch my heart.
*You're the balm.
*You're the regeneration.
*You are life.
And something beyond life that can only be described as being more alive.
Stay.
Hold me.
Close my lips from whispering false longings.
By placing *Your lips on them.
Love me.
And the best part is that *You already want to.
But *You like it when I ask.
And now *You have me smiling my own devious smile
that is also wholesome. Somehow.
In *Your hands are the greatest pleasures, just waiting.
...but I'm so afraid
"And even while *You're waiting, I'm just shivering and fading..." -9days (capitalization mine)
