I search for you in the morning,
and before I fall asleep.
I search for you in the empty spaces of my home,
and the red lights that will never turn green.
I search for you in the endless hours of staring at a phone,
that once came to life with your face.
I search for you in cyberspace and message bubbles,
that will never be a good substitute for sharing your space.
I search for you in pictures covered with dust,
and words covered with ashes.
I search for you in the songs we can’t sing together,
and a life devoid of your passion.
I search for you in the dreams that aren’t real,
and the memories that are fading.
I search for you after midnight,
when I know you’re awake and creating.
I can’t imagine a heart that doesn’t have you painted all over it,
and a mind that doesn’t shout your name.
I bleed with false hope and wishful thinking,
as I come after you all over again.
I tell myself I’m in control of this,
but I’m hanging by a thread.
I tell myself it doesn’t hurt,
but all I see is red.
I reach for more of you,
with desperate dependency and a famished heart.
I tell myself it will hurt later,
as you delicately peel me apart.