This was actually written in early August, but I didn't submit it for a while. It was originally a prose piece. Then I added line breaks. I'm not really upset with how this turned out, but I'm not truly happy with it, either. I feel like it should be longer, but I can't do that without breaking the mood.

by Rb

The soft music plays in the backround,
but I can't hear it anymore. You fill
everything right now, your head and torso
obscuring my vision, your breathing
my lullaby. You are everything to me,
my entire world.

There's no map of how to live;
that's the reason that we're free.
And we are free,
free of the bonds that chain us,
free of the outside world's influence,
free of the secret ghosts
which haunt our nightmares.

Right now, there is nothing to
stop us except for ourselves.
And I will never free myself
from your embrace.

Some people don't understand
us, some people laugh at us.
Some people say
"it could never be true love"
and don't even bother attempting
to learn about what we have.

But together, you and I are
more than what we are apart.
I can still feel you in me –
in what I wear, in what I eat,
in what I do. Whenever we're apart,
I hear your voice, I see your figure
from the corner of my eyes and
I have to stop myself from calling
out to your phantom image.

I can barely breathe when I don't see you near.

But there's no one to stop us now.
There's no one who can separate us now.
We are together, not halves, but whole.