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I see the emerald hills of Toledo draped in a golden sunrise,
A cold morning breeze is blowing past the trees on the outskirts of Cordoba.
I walk down the white marble entombing the streets of Old Madrid,
The fluorescent lights of nocturnal Paris still dance around me,
As I pour myself a cold beer under a clear Berlin sky.

I fly over and find you walking under a Pennsylvania fall,
Getting ready to play in the Jersey snow.
We go down south, almost to the border,
To have a prime rib eye Texas steak for lunch;
And for dessert we share a kiss that tastes like New York.

You hold my hand as we walk through the Peruvian border,
And take my picture as I pose next to Machu Picchu.
I smile as you play with the llamas we found on the edge of the Titicaca Lake,
And together we look down on the ruins found on the Sun Island,
Before we end up gasping for air on the roof of the world 5,000 meters above the sea.

Climbing down we take a walk under the fading Bolivian sky,
We see luxurious office buildings on the right and brick and mud huts on the left.
The narrow streets of La Paz beaming with life as the sun creeps over the hills,
We walk to our favorite taco stand across from the Cathedral,
And on the last night we have in the land of my birth,
We share a kiss that tastes just like New York.
I forgot how much I need you,
The magic of your touch, no matter if it’s a hug or a kick.
I forgot just how sweet the look in your eyes truly is,
The tender smile that crosses your lips when I say something stupid.

I forgot how beautiful you look when you first wake up in the morning,
The delightful fragrance that clings to anything you touch.
I forgot how soft your hair feels,
The texture of your hands and the ***** of your back.

I forgot about the way you talk to me,
The change in your voice and your adorable squeals.
I forgot how radiant you are when you get ready to go out at night,
The perfection of your face with or without make up.

I forgot how much I need you,
The privilege of sleeping next to you.
I forgot just how in love I am,
The way my heart races in the seconds prior to seeing you every day.
What happens when the lines between reality and dreams begin to blur?
One second you walk down a sunlit street to go to work,
The next you wake up in bed staring up at your ceiling.
Which one is the dream, the walk to work or the alarm sound?

The shadows in your dreams appear more real than the faces of your day,
The conversations with shadows more genuine than the ones you have with people around you.
The breeze felt before you wake up seems fresher than the weather forecasted,
The sensations in real life seem duller than the ones from your dreams.

Maybe the dreams you have are premonitions of the upcoming day,
Maybe they’re annotations to the day you had before.
Perhaps the stars you see in the sky at night are a lie,
And the ones in your dreams are brighter and more majestic.

What becomes of you if you can no longer separates fantasy from reality?
If you wake up to repeat the things already done in your sleep,
If you walk in the footprints left behind by your shadow.
But most importantly, is it worse to blur the lines of reality,
Or to dream about a reality that is more beautiful than the one you’ll wake up to?
There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
You wrote it some time ago,
And I despise the thought of its existence,
But your hand and your voice are so clear and so stark,
They prevent me from discarding it.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
In it I see valleys of gold and pastures of wealth,
The restless Sea shining with the color of silver glass,
Overlooked by a swift crimson sunset;
The sky is endless and the wind smells of jasmine.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
Through it I hear the soft sound of your voice,
I can smell the fragrance of your hair,
My lips can taste the ghost of your kiss,
And for a second I can see your mischievous smile.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
In it you wrote words that melt my heart,
You recalled the euphoria of adoration and passion,
And you painted portraits of intimacy so lucid,
They just danced off the pages and disappeared into limbo.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
It is named thus because through it I see you,
Not as you are now but as you used to be,
As mad for me as I still am for you,
Treasuring my heart as much as I safeguard yours.

There is a letter titled “Don’t Read” on my desktop.
I can’t read it because it crushes me inside when I see,
The words you wrote and the pledge you made to me,
Because now you’ve forsaken both,
And left me with nothing but shadows and dust.
Pain is the fine line between reality and depression.
It is the temptation to pick up the blade and cut again.
It welcomes the buzz that alcohol brings;
Pain is the lighter that helps me light my vice.

Pain is the sadness that hides behind a fake smile.
It is the hollowness that dulls the eyes.
It sprinkles bitterness in my laugh;
Pain is the scars that defile the body.

Pain is the cold winter wind that blows at night.
It is the darkness that chokes me when I'm alone.
It poisons my dreams and taints my sleep;
Pain is the weight that encumbers the beginning of each new day.

Pain is the need to call you on the phone but knowing you won't answer.
It is the "seen" icon followed by no reply.
It ties my stomach in a knot when I think of you;
Pain is feeling ignored and fading away.
The silence of the night is enticing,
A cold chill is blowing from the north.
Walking barefoot under the moonlight,
I look up at the sky and think of you.

I light my cigarette and blow out the smoke,
The smell of rain is still fresh in the air.
Walking down the empty street,
I see your reflection in every window.

The night closes in and the darkness deepens,
As the nagging doubts and frailties of the mind begin to appear.
The clouds above twist and grow with anger,
The moon hides behind the impending storm.

The smell of your hair, the delicate smile on your face,
The softness of your lips, the warmth of your embrace.
These are the shadows that haunt me,
These are the demons that persecute me.

I take another swig of whiskey to try and clear my head,
To warm my body and steel my thoughts.
The demons taunt me with memories sharpened like knives,
Reminding me of hurts so deep that left scars which will not fade.

However, as I lie on the moist grass and take another drag,
I see your image shimmer across the field.
I remember falling asleep in your arms,
And waking up to the sound of your voice.

Suddenly, the sea of clouds disperses,
And I see a great moon shine bright and proud;
The shadows and demons flee at the incoming light.
And with the last puff of my cigarette I see,
Your image fade away into the night,
Leaving me behind with a smile and the taste of home.
When the sky is dark and the moon is hidden,
When the deepness of the night threatens to consume me,
The feeling of solitude maroons me in a stormy ocean,
The weight of confusion and pain drags me down below the crashing tide.
The world seems to shrink as the water floods the mind,
The stinging salt burns the various wounds that cover my body.
My sanctum closes its doors and refuses me sanctuary,
I am forced to lay outside with the bitter **** left unwanted.
Hurt and morbid I find myself,
A miserable ghost of the proud, tall man I used to be.
My castle was burned and my throne was broken,
On the same night my queen disappeared in a flash of smoke and shadow.
Now, humbled and alone,
I return to the roots of my life to regain strength anew.
The mountains of my childhood rising above the valley,
The scent of belonging subtly clinging to the air,
A waking dream of the reminiscing bliss of my memory,
I have returned to the home my spirit was built in to mend my broken soul.
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