Poetry Project 2017: 02/02

I've got to shower, 
to try and shake off the feeling of you.
Every cell in my body aches,
because I cannot be with you.
Lie, lies, lies, 
foolish dreams.
Tormenting my waking hours,
images of you.
Is it sad that I create this pain?
Or is it beautiful?
Is it sad that I get a taste,
of something that is not real?
Or is it beautiful?
My greatest love story,
plays out in dreams.
It is a taste of perfection,
which can never be real.
Both tragic and exquisite.
You are not you,
you are a perfect version of you.
I am not I,
I am a perfect version of I.
Perfect versions,
perfect together.
In my reality,
I miss you, that perfect you.
I miss a person who doesn't exist.
Both sad and beautiful.
Even with the pain of waking,
even with the disorientation,
I never want to lose this love story.
It is the closest thing to perfection
I will ever taste.
Perhaps even the closest to big B
I will ever be.

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