I went to bed thinking of you
I woke up dreaming of you
I breathed in fragments of your soul
a long time ago,
Before I knew what they were made of;
Before I knew what they would make of;
Me.
Days fall into nights
Nights crawl into days
and a still crave the feeling of your face;
Against;
Mine.
I miss you...
in the kind of way people don't like to admit
You're the memory of a bottle to subtly trembling lips