How many of us have died
Trying to make more out of our lives?
How many of us slice open our skin,
Dying to love, to feel?

We jump from planes to laugh and smile...
What if instead our company stayed
For just a little while?

We are DYING to live,
And I do mean dying.
Our souls, locked away,
Batter our ribs and our hearts trying to escape.

I want to write,
I want to laugh, and sing, and draw,
I want to make lasting friendships
And give life my all.

Like so many others,
I am dying to live,
Dying to survive.

Storms of feeling,
Storms of people embracing one another,
Storms of laughter and smiles
As lips meet in sweet kisses.

I wrap myself in his arms,
His warmth enveloping me,
Soothing me in a way
Nothing else ever has.

His breath tickles my ear
And I laugh, turning
To kiss his sweet lips,
For he is mine and mine alone.

I think of him daily,
Lingering in the sound of his laugh
And the pure joy in his smile.

He shields me from the cold black wind
That often threatens to overwhelm me.

Though I am sometimes loathe to admit it,
He saves me.

...

I only hope he will never go.