All along the superhighway, I chased you, but even then I couldn't keep up. Your feet were too fast for me. You could race lightening. And just like that, you were out of reach. Gone, whoosh, out of sight; be still my mind. Now I dont know where else to go. Like walking in a dream, everywhere I turn is strange to me. I fumble in the dark, thinking maybe you are hiding, deep down, under the covers. But all I find are feathers and your fading scent on my pillows. If only I could squeeze them until they became you. I speak your name in my sleep. I feel your shadow hand on my hip, another cupping my breast. Your lips against my neck. But my skin grows colder every day. I know eventually, these memories, this pain, your face, all will fall to dust, sifted down in the file boxes in my mind, and so I hold it, grip it in my hands, savor the bitterness of your rejection, ejection, reflections, in the hope that I can have something of you, even if it is this sour fruit, for just a little longer. In vain, in my veins, coursing, this hope, this desire, is it ever worthwhile? If not then why do we exist? If not to love and hurt and die. Really, isnt that all there is?

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