I'm not scared of waking up alone.
I'm terrified that you're not.

Life is the mixing of
voices
dreams
bones
and
fears.

I'd live in your ribbed cage
if
   you'd
       let
           me

It's too difficult.
       I'm flesh and blood
so when I try to convert
       myself to
       paper and ink,
I don't like it...
                         Paper me has no depth
                                                        pizazz
                                                   or truth
to her.
She's 2D in more way than one,
simply pretending to have
                                                  life
                                                  love
                                          and excitement.
Vicarious living will only breathe a few
feeble
puffs into her deflated parchment lungs,
but that's all I can
ever
give her.
To impart all my life
                               love
                       and excitement
into her would                  
                          drain me
                           zap me
(and probably) shock me.
Because then she
would no longer be
Paper Me,
she'd be
Real Me
and I don't think I could
          bear to
            come face to face
               with **Real Me