I’m tired of chasing you in my thoughts. Night after night you escape, melting into the shadows, and I’m left gasping for oxygen. The faint breath that keeps me here keeps me from finding you. If I could reach through the fog and grab onto something, the barriers would fall and I would stand strong.
I’d be the one you run to.
We’re always running from, or after, something. We find comfort in nothing. Do you ever get tired of that? Last night, I watched you dance in the fire and some part of me wanted to save you; some other part itched to join.
In my dreams, I am saving the world.
In reality, maybe I am the one who needs saving.