Holding My Breath Until Morning / Denial

You're like smoke. - Shapeless, or just too many shapes to settle on anything real, anything solid. - If I make myself look, I can see you- a looming, dark, mass always present in the corner of my thoughts - Sometimes I wonder if you're even there at all, or if it's just a trick of the light- my mind turning shadows into monsters Sometimes, I can almost even convince myself that's true. Almost. - When I reach for you, I can't quite hold on You always slip through my fingers- leaving them empty, but shaking from the memory of blistering heat - Sometimes I catch a sudden, intense smell- the odor of something charred and crumbling, but I can't quite find the source - I try to follow your smoke trails anyway You've got to be here somewhere I can feel you inside of me You blacken my lungs and poison my blood, starving me of oxygen And I cough up soot and ash - I am suffocating You are burning this house down around me - And if I'm honest, I know exactly where to find you. Every time I build up enough courage to come near, I find myself trembling; the back of my hand against the door to measure the heat. How deadly is the room beyond it? - Barely wrapping my fingers around the handle is enough to leave my flesh screaming. - But I know I can't escape without walking headfirst into the flames. Into you - And I'm afraid you would swallow me whole, And leave nothing behind But smoke.