Just in limbo. This ache that haunted my grasp. I toss and turn. I lose the ideal of a breath. Just to claim the idea of you More than enough. Your name my subconscious howls. Aren't I lovesick for the fullness of the moon enough? Yet I feel you close when you are away. Even my dreams are safe wandering till I find you. You whisper how you always find me? And I always reply with the same cryptic answer. Always. This mirror of emotion that belongs to your reflection. Shattered my walls are. Every time you look at me. Knowing I can't front. But only belong entirely. Wanting to be claimed so possessively. Haunted by my habits that made me like a beast. Yet a artist only has a insatiable appetite for only his composition of beauty. Yet adoring her just to be his definition of a queen. His goddess without flaw or even trying. For her he would dare to be anything. Just to allow her to be his definition of everything. Never is as sweet. As losing myself to the ideal of I'm yours. To be the very reason why I will never stop or seek to fall entirely.