Only ever in dreams do I wrap my arms around you.

I find myself scared of falling in love, of craving you every second of every day, of needing you, of becoming addicted to you. I am scared of missing you more than I can handle, of losing you, and losing myself in you.

This is the year I said "I love you" with blood between my teeth.
The same year I wrote more poetry than I could swallow, all in an attempt to sort chaotic thoughts.
I cut my hair without notice, purposefully uneven, "a cry for help."
I drank my own words to full up all the "okays" and empty "goodbyes."
This is the year I lost too much sleep, and my hands began to look like they belonged to someone else.
The stars glued to my ceiling faded out, and I brought a fake smile to a gun fight.
I've got some nervous habits but you are by far the worst one.

You painted daisies on my wrists and planted roses inside each ribcage and then you told me that you don't like flowers because they die too fast.

You are an ocean but secrets don't float and I had to drown to get to your soul, but you didn't save me when I tired and forgot how to swim and now my lungs are burning and my lips are too blue to say that I miss you

I wanted you from the second I saw you and so many people will think that's sweet but honestly I don't know how much longer I can live in the dust kicked up by your cold feet

***** burns my throat but your name haunts my head so I would rather blackout with a promising hangover than stare blankly at my hands trying to forget what it was like to touch you.

Sometimes, I wake up at four in the morning and still taste smoke in the back of my throat. I swear to god, you're still burning somewhere inside me.