find your own bliss.
I found it in
lovesickness.
found it in lying
awake in bed,
closing eyes tight
to imagine
your head
resting softly next to mine
breathing softly
as I do;
fingers intertwined
whispering "I love you."

when I open my eyes
it all shatters,
the delicate fantasy
of a daydream,
like brittle glass
found in a cacophony
of silent
screams.
what does it all mean?
lips grasping at
nothing,
kissing the air,
for when I close my eyes,
it isn't nothing
but it is you
who's lying there.

wrap my arms around blankets
and wish against hope
that you were there,
that you were more than just
a wish made into
silent air.
lovesickness for someone
I have barely
caressed
with my own eyes.
what would it be
to love you
in the heat of real life?

this sickness
attacks my stomach,
turns it—
makes my heart
drop,
breath stop,
and the bitterness lies in me
like a vein
always about
to pop.
this is withdrawal;
you are my drug.
never have I known
a worse sickness
than that which lies in love.