I can’t imagine myself without my longing
call it infatuation or blind optimism
while my suitors may have changed, this feeling seems to follow me through the milestones
find me in the dead of night, breaking my own heart
searching for a hero

all my greatest hurt reminds me of you
you ask me how I’m doing and I try not to spill my heart out in the front seat of your car
because then you wouldn’t want to see me again
and I’ve missed you for so many nights
you feel so close until you aren’t
and I always seem to find myself reaching for your ghosts around this time of day
you’re the only person I could miss while you’re sitting right across from me

I know there are nights when ghosts of your past try to creep their way in
their whispers echo until your hands begin to shake
and you’re haunted by the pictures of past mistakes
you are so much more than the thoughts that claim you
maybe you don’t miss that part of your life
but it doesn’t mean it was a loss
forgive yourself for the days you felt unworthy
and for the way you reacted to the pain
you are more than the mistakes you’ve made

to be the person of your dreams
to be less a body and more an idea
to be an unlit cigarette kissing your lips
the lavender in your coffee and the aftertaste in your mouth
your Malibu sunsets in a 70’s Mercedes
what if love is trying to break apart the barrier between what you see and what you feel
what if you close your eyes and you find yourself reaching out for me
I dream of what you’d see in me if you couldn’t see me at all

I feel most myself when I am loving you
strawberry seeds on the top of your tongue and I’ve never tasted anyone so sweet
we are made of the same skin
and I don’t worry that in another life I may not have found you, for our hiding places are the same

I like to dance in the light of all the fires I started
just so the flames can wince at the sound of my laughter
just so what once burned me can see me now

I worry I'm not as good at loving as I'd like to think
you can't put band aids on broken bones
all my doses of resentment seem to pour out onto you
and I whisper that I don't need you
with tears in my eyes and white knuckles around your fingers
I do not know how to love what's in front of me
only the ghost of the past and the fantasies of my mind