nothing makes me feel more alone than the way I'm in love with the idea of love. And how every new prospect drowns me in dreams of what we could be, who I should be, how this could happen and how it won't. Touching palms like we'd never torn apart anything of value and drawing parallels in the way we both sleep on only one side of the bed. Locking eyes like mirrors never made us want to cry and clutching memories like the hair on the back of your neck mid kiss. Let me know I'm yours, if only for tonight. Calling dibs through the flames and sending kisses to the escape. This is what I wanted but, I still can't get this web of missed connections cleared out in time. I'm in like with a boy who loves movies and a girl who defines sexuality. I'm in heat with a boy with weathered hands just because they make me think he's capable to handle the storm. I'm in awe with a boy channeling an ivy leaguer and a wise suburban coffeehouse. Wish me luck because I just don't think I can pull enough seats to the table to coexist with all my dreams and frantic attempts at being somebody I'm not. Who knows and who doesn't but most importantly who cares? Break this bread and let live. Take me or leave me.