I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

I want you to think of me when you've just woken up from a bad dream
and you're staring out the window wondering where you went wrong.
I want you to be able to tell the difference between moonlight and snow,
or that if you rub them together the right way you'll disappear.
We practiced drawing lines (failed attempts at being artists)
but there were too many crooked ones that didn't make any sense,
and we crossed the wrong ones, and got too close to the others,
the picture got so distorted that we appeared crazy.

That keeps happening.

I tried to escape myself to find myself but instead I became more complicated and more sick, than ever.
It made me see how much stronger  brain waves are than ocean waves,
that they can drag you deeper inside yourself than a broken heart,
and they can hurt you more than a broken bone.
If you don't know where you are or who you are, how are you supposed to know what will help you?
How are you supposed to know how to love?
You can't.
I've found that it's harder to live in your shadow than in your soul,
that you can't find yourself in the stars, or in the bathroom, or in some one else's eyes.
People wont love you if you blind them.
Chaos isn't comforting.
I keep turning them away.

This keeps happening.