You are in my dreams, and in my writing.

I could move to another planet and I still wouldn't be able to get away from the ghost of you that haunts me everyday.

And I can't breathe anymore. When I do manage to grasp air it's full of disdain and anguish that builds up in my lungs like black tar.  

A slow agonizing death, but it is still not slower than the one you have given me.

I reach out to touch you, in search of comfort, but my fingertips come in contact with nothing.

Reminding me that I feel nothing,
Yet I feel everything,

And what I long for, is that one day I may feel you once again.