Water Through My Fingertips

Shall I whisper your name at night and disturb the beauty of your silence? Peacefully you rest while I look on in fear: fear that you will never know my touch, never know my voice. At the foot of your bed I argue with myself. What angel dares torture me so? To never feel your cheek warm with life or your hair running like water through my fingers; I'd rather die a thousand deaths. The mattress is cold as I lay beside you. Your familiar scent drifts through my body making me whole. Your eyes slowly open but they see right through me. I'm but a ghost come to haunt your perfect life. You smile and the world around us disappears. Blindly you search for my hand. Hiding my pain I let you find it, though all you feel is air. Then you sigh and return to dreams of a better world. I let a single tear escape but no more. I wish you no more pain than you're already in. I move closer; my lips brush your forehead. I whisper yet another promise. Then I'm gone- gone to another night of pain and sadness. Under the moonless sky, drenched by the pouring rain, I scream my misery, my pain, into the night until there's nothing left and I'm empty, ready to fill up with the pain of tomorrow. The sun rises. I lie to you, tell you everything will turn out okay. If only. There will be no end.