Casting in my mind, i skim for traces of you. I realise i'm wasting my time, yet i continue to drip fantasies and thoughts and recite all our possibilities in my head. Every moment now is frustration; skin wrapping and suffocation. I yearn to be naked. Every night is an internal journey of discovery and enlightenment. Tonight, i will learn again the ways i am nothing. Every thought is coupled with another, blocking any possibilities of forward continuity. And despite how i feel i preach my heart, plague my own mind with those ridiculous and endless words pouring from my pencil, I suffer this disease of mind, to scare myself and waste me away. And at the end i can safely say, i've done so much of all the things that matter: Crying and praying, wanting and failing.

I wonder what you'd do, if you saw me now. What would you think? Will you feel the same? When i stroke you, will you see me as i hope?

Fantasy:

You stirred, i refused to sit by and watch, so i ventured close. I reached my hand out to the darkness and spoke your name. You snapped at me- and i pulled back- and spoke your name again. And stroked your face. And lay with you. And gazed into the black and i said: "mine again." I remember every smile you've ever given me, Every time you've ever held my hand, every word you ever said and everything we ever did. Please Remember how i love you. My god, how i love you.

But i no longer know you, and while you recall me, i'm holding only where i think your Hands might be.