Strings attached, a poem.

Every morning I wake with the sensation of lips I’ve never kissed.

This aching emptiness in my stomach I cannot fill.

It haunts my waking moments, but leaves my dreams in peace.

A searing yet invisible touch I cannot place.

It calls to me, waiting for an answer.

I want to. I want you. But when I reach, you’re not there.

The day is long and endless

I think of you often, but feel you so rarely.

Another lonely night gone by, and back to bed I go.

As I rouse, for just a moment, you’re almost mine.

But a moment is never long enough.

As quickly as I see you, you escape me.

You’re only here to taunt me, to haunt me.

To keep pushing me until I reach my glorious reward of more nothing.

I push you away and you won’t go.

I pull you in but you slip through my fingers.

Trying to hold you is like trying to grasp the wind.

Why can’t I make this pain end?

The more I explain, the less sense I make.

The more answers I search for, the further I find myself from the truth.

You are but a waking dream, and I the dreamer.

Perhaps a nightmare, but will it end before I’m dead?

Maybe you’re no one. A ghost, a spirit.

Another demon that offers the world but delivers heartache instead.

You are a mythic perfection that keeps me from settling.

An impossible ideal that no mortal being could measure up to.

And yet I still hope for you.

I am a glutton and you are my punishment.

So, I’ll feel you tomorrow.

Bright and early, you’ll kiss me awake.

But as every day before,

I’ll open my eyes and you’ll be gone once more.