I want you here with me so I don't have to keep taking a walk down memory, trying to remember the way it used to be.

I want to live it.

I want you here with me so when I get sad or scared I don't have to think back to a time when you used to hold me so tight in your arms.

I want to feel it.

I want you here so that every time I hear your name it's not a stab to my chest that makes my heart sink into my stomach.

I want butterflies.

I want you here with me so I don't have to keep thinking back to a time when I used to be happy.

I want my happiness back.

I want my life back.

I want our life back.

**Together.

There’s a strong urgency in *******.
The longing for there to be another human body
pressed up against your own, so much so you envision
it vividly in your mind, painting hundreds of
thousands of scenarios until you find one just right
for your hand,

for your body.

It's not about pleasure, but about that momentary loss of place and time,
a further commitment to your imagination but
to your loneliness as well.

At night I place my hand over my heart.
Feeling for the beat that means I'm still alive.
Still here. Still breathing. Still worth it.

I can remember the day you brought me flowers.
You showed up, shirt pressed, with that same sad smile.
I didn't want to tell you the truth.
That my lips had already known another man,
that my finger tips burned at the thought of his skin.
So instead I told you that I only saw you as a friend,
despite the weeks of rough *** and stolen time together.
After everything, how could I admit that you were so much more?
I'd already proven that you were clearly not enough.

Tonight I'll place my hand over my heart with tears in my eyes.
Praying that for once I'll be able to believe it's beat means I'm still alive.

(Before you read this, this is only applicable to my experience, I'm not judging you if this is still your life; it's written more because it was my life and I wasn't living.)


At the time I thought it helped me socialise,
now it’s no surprise I look through anti-social eyes;
supplied with a look over the shoulder guise.
Bored of chasing a broken prize, smoke n lies
I chose to thrive, pry open these permanently closing eyes.
It was the bane of my existence,
now my resistance is high instead of me.
I better be the best pedigree of I.
Instead of the guy flying with eyes far from wide
spying those that despise trying to get inside my mind,
to find they aren't real. Addicted no longer,
uplifted, higher than leaves can carry,
now you’re green with envy while I parry
back your attacks and crack on.
I blow-back your slow trap and reflect upon your affliction
I’m best without your friction on my lungs,
now I’m cutting you with the diction from my tongue,
no grinder.  Now my mind’s up to speed,
no amphetamine, no dependency,
it certainly seems that I’m living better than I could ever dream.
I’m an evergreen standing steady for centuries.
At the time I thought it helped me socialise,
now it’s no surprise I look through anti-social eyes;
supplied with a look over the shoulder guise.