(Source: ghosthustler, via fucktheseroses)

And tonight she thinks about him
Again
Just as an alcoholic would think of alcohol
after a long day’s work
In fragments, with force
Between doors and fingers and conversations
She thinks about him

But tonight her body aches
and craves the presence of
his smell and words
Phone calls, texts and video calls 
don’t let you sniff along his neck
Smell of the day’s labour, soap and christmas eve
He smells like Christmas, and the rain

And think of him, she does
almost everyday 
and miss him, I do
When I’m at my happy best
but tonight 
I need his warmth, pressing against my winter
and she needs his lips on the tip of her brow

She could meet him
Everyday if she desired
but she chose not to and dialed the number instead
But oh silly human, did you forget?
that on ugly days, how your body pains
alone, on your cold bed
with abuses being hurled against the door
and she, today
craves him
Like water after passing out drunk

And tonight 
when boundaries
mental, physical, emotional
and state, country, ocean.
When state boundaries cage you in
and she couldn’t but regret. 
and long
for the superhuman words,
the superhuman touch
But no one can cross nations
and swim across oceans
so she sits here and waits
months, years and days
I see the spring and the fall
and I still miss him tonight 
while her phone breathes his voice