In my mind your fingers were in the gaps of my fingers we were holding onto timbered dreams of romance then the floorboards disappeared from underneath and I am in this weathered storm left thinking- that somehow someway I wish you could... I wish you could find a way to love me as I have you... but the only words that come out speak silence- 'you are beautiful' because that's all I wanted to let you hear. Theres an ember lighting a pile of papers that seems to turn rustic a foundation of solid ground and right now- I'm wondering if love is real, because if it's real, why does it hurt so much? Maybe I just wanted the soft illusion to stick a little longer, maybe I'm not great, maybe I'm not good, maybe I wasn't trying hard enough, or maybe I just wasn't enough- but I do know that ... I miss you... not in the way we built our relationship- I don't miss you in the way that you went to work, or I went to school... I miss you in the way that I won't get another chance to miss you, so I miss you- but the sun shines on my face, and I wish I could say its familiar shape stings my eyes, but right now - I wish I was blind, I wish I was blind, deaf, and could not talk. Just so I can say - this is close to death- and I like it.