nine.

i wake up each morning with a pit in my stomach. and i know it is me dying. i never want to stop dreaming. its there that i feel safe and i feel alive. its there that i breathe familiar air, its there that i breathe you. and every time i open my eyes, i leave that place that i love and i drift further away from the one place that takes me for who i am and who i am going to be. i could care less about these things that keep us connected. love doesn’t exist in telephone wires and airwaves. love exists in my closed eyes, my faint breathing and my wandering mind. love exists in my dreams and a thousand miles couldn’t change that.