If I reached for you,
stretching out my fingertips,
you'd still be,
far beyond my touch.

I remember the way you felt under my hands.
Grabbing your waist,
running my palms across your pale skin.
My body and mind,
both set on fire.

I wanted to tell you then,
when passion consumed us,
that I adore your rough edges.
The soft scars you fear,
take my breath away.

I find you so flawless.

I've always known your brilliance,
losing myself in the corners.
I wanted so much,
to fill the empty vase she left behind.

You spent so much time chasing ghosts,
that you once,
accused me of being one.
Reality made me visible,
and perhaps that's what I did wrong.

I finally gave my whole self,
and you faded beyond view.
Leaving me standing here,
trying to understand exactly what was real.

We must lose a part of ourselves,
when we spend so much time,
Loving when it makes no sense,
and chasing ghosts that have no heart.