you.

The ocean of you ripples over me in waves, coming and going. I've learned to navigate these seas with torn up sails and no map guiding me. Moving in no particular direction I find comfort in the ideas my mind ponders upon.

I catch glimpses of you from afar, but I never hold a glare. I fear nothing but the Medusa like effect you'd have on me, turning me to stone if our eyes locked. The effort I would need to take to look away would tire me completely.

At times I feel my heart pumping beautiful rhythms I learned from yours, my skin crawling with your touch, and my lungs inflated with everything you taught me. Then I realize it's just irregular heart beats trying to find peace, my body longing for your hands, and smoke from cigarettes that can't seem to fill the empty voids I wish they could.

Even though these words may be far fetched, they are something a lot closer to me now that it's not something I can fully reach. If that makes sense? Not a lot does. I grasp for the reality I can no longer see and realize it's just dead hopes.

I don't believe in coincidences, but if you were to end up in front of me again I don't think it would be for nothing. It's like taking a book back off a shelf it was placed on. An unfinished story needs an ending, right? Or maybe, just a new beginning.