lobster

Insanity seems to surround me. I feel like the fog is rolling in over the hills and it's so thick that I can barely see my porch light, let alone the candle burning in the window.

To say I miss you is the grandest understatement. It's like calling love easy, or Everest tiny, or death insignificant. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

I want to crawl in to the safety that is your skin and your chest and your embrace. I want to get lost in your smell. I want to be immersed in you and erased from the stink of the reality of this endeavor.

I feel weak baby. I feel fragile and I feel like my concrete barricade is cracking. I fear that the rushing ocean water is going to break through at any moment. I fear that I'm going to wander around all night long only to discover that the porch light has been turned off, and the door locked. I don't want to be outside in the cold.

So come to me. Come to me tonight while I sleep. Climb inside my subconscious and allow my fog filled brain to revel in the porch light that is you. Lead me home. Lead me back to laughter.