Presence

I love being with him.
My being with him.
The exhilarating rush,
the thrill of his gaze through my eyes,
into me.
ME.
The electric tingle in my fingers when he touches my arm...
grabs my hand...
squeezes it with the utter most burning passion of comfort like he needs me.
wants me.
that feeling of want, connecting to each part of these elements...
like the shining of a beautiful constellation burning the midnight sky bright
the quiet nothing surrounding me, only me and him
he clutters my daydreams pleasantly suffocating me with the thoughts of him,
being him,
nothing but him.
he clouds my thoughts like a dangerous storm,
with me just awaiting the crackling thunder.
violently shocking me with pleasure of him
the presence of him, he makes this wonderful, tragic, eerie life worth living for
he makes the believable real
he makes every ounce of my being real
he makes me shine bright, he lifts me above the heavens on the worst days and brings me even higher on the best
he is the drug i crave,
the addiction i refuse to kick, and i will violently
overdose on him