Him.

I love. I love him. I don't think i'll ever have him. The darkness of my soul sometimes shadows my judgement. The hope lost in the corner, out of sight. He sings, but I can't hear it. Like a lover of music, a player of song, but can only hear with the vibrations of the floor.. He sleeps, but I can't feel his warmth, or the touch of his fingers as they accidentally brush against me as he dreams. His dreams. I wonder if I am there, in his vivid world of imagination. Illusions of want and lust. Hopes of touch and sensation. I sit and cry, yearning for the one thing I want, that seems so out of reach. So unfair. I wipe the tears with the back of my hand. Like a child. I sit in bed. Can't sleep. I just want to dream. Of him. To toss and turn in a nightmare would be desirable, if he was there with me. Selfish. Faith. Should be a four letter word. So unreachable. So unattainable. So wanted. I stand outside and breathe in the air. I smell him. From states away,I smell him. The imagination, so incredible. Overwhelms me...a rush of sanity. A deep sadness engulfs me. Alone. The smell of the street. Sickening. Maybe one day... Maybe him. Looks to the sky....maybe.