I have known real torture.
Not inflicted by weapons or machines;
Not a drop of blood drawn.
Real torture is when you tell me
From a thousand miles away
That your nose is in my hair
That your arms and legs are intertwined with mine
And that your lips press my shoulders in the dark.

But in turn
I have also known great happiness.
And fullness.
And warmth.

Because I have truly experienced you.

Day 1:
When you wake up missing someone, and go to bed mourning them, remember that the first week is always the worst.

Day 7:
When your body begins to pull you out of bed and begs your legs to run as far and as fast as they can, realize that the only destination you're really seeking is their arms, their embrace; that home encased in steady beats and familiar warmth.

3 am:
When your feet can no longer support the weight of your heavy soul and your car won't stop pestering you to take a ride, don't waste your gas.
Don't spend your sparse tears all in one place.
He wants to kiss you too.
That's all that matters.

12 pm:
Everything reminds you of him, you're watching his face dissolve in a crowd of strangers, you lose sight of him.
When you see a tall boy and a shy girl cooing in the corner where you once swam in his eyes and confessed your love without spoken words, do not fall to your knees.
Do not avenge fate.
What was once a wonderful thing of yours can now be shared with people you wish you could be again.

Day 30:
When you find that food is your last resort, a full stomach is increasingly scarce, and days pass of nothing but your bed swallowing you whole and your bedroom seeming more like a dungeon, open your window and remember why you always woke up in the first place.
Recall why you used to smile, and your remedy, his smile back, will make the sun choose to shine again.

Hour 3:
When your lips and your hearts leap towards each other to certain death, do not procrastinate putting your tears on a silver platter.
Do not mourn what will be mourned far too soon—just love the way you didn't want to.
And don't let go.

Day 1:
When 3 hours feels like day 1 all over again, lick your lips, keep holding on to him although his embrace expired for some time now.
Most importantly, pretend he hasn't left yet.
Ask yourself:
When can I love you this much again?

Leaving the blacks and whites and the grey
To a garden, blue and red and violet,
Where I should hope to stay

Escaping the calls of death
In melodies of flying birds
Who lend me breath

Wandering in a fantasy
Of fog, blue and red and violet,
When I can't bear to see