where your hands were missing

i should not read your fiction and wish you were here, wish i could spin your words into a voice and a touch. bring you back through what you've written, which is all i see anymore. we haven't had a real conversation since the night of i've never talked about this with someone who wasn't going through it and you do know i'll always be your shoulder - don't you? even the strongest person has to cry, to throw caution to the wind and give in to emotions and oh baby i try. right now, more than anything, i want to talk to you. really talk. hear your voice for the first time in forever but i'd have to pinch myself to make sure i wasn't dreaming. you are a dream.

all you have to do is open your eyes.