I hate my life.

[eddiefender]

I said that I'd think about you. You're becoming another excuse. Another fake. Another pretend version of what I want. I did think of you. I thought about you until I saw her. Until I smelled her. Until I held her in my arms. It feels so right. It feels like she's always been there and will never leave. But she's never been there. I know she feels it too. I can tell from the way she leans into me. There's something there. But it will never be. Everything I want is right in front of me; it's staring at me from across the table; it's smiling and coyly looking away; it wants to feel my touch. I don't know how I can deal with this. I don't know how I can keep seeing her and never having a taste. I dream about her in my arms and I wake up clutching a pillow. Hours later I can still smell her on my clothes. I close my eyes and I see her smile. I want to kiss those lips. But there's nothing there. I'm clinging to ghosts. It's been so many years since I have shed a tear that didn't belong to her.

I come home, though, and you're there. Faithful as a tumor. I pretend I love you. That my pain is for you. You are hope from hopelessness. You are what I ache for. The endless desire that burns my insides. I give it to you.

~Kriz