As days turn into weeks.

Everyday, the thought of you returns.
Just like the rise of the sun, it never fails.
I can't shake the feeling that overcomes me when it arrives.
I succumb to the heart wrenching pain that would make even the most tenacious of men fall.
The power of your beauty is unbearable.
I crave the warmth of your touch and the scent of your skin.
But I can't have it. No, not yet.
I must wait for the such time that feels like forever from now.
I even wince as the silhouette of you forms within me.
The beauty spreads through you and begins to manifest.
You cross the threshold into my reality.
Our eyes connect, but before I can release my sentiment for you.
You desolate into blackness.
As if you were never there.
Why does this antagonizing thought always come back to feed?
It tears at my yearning for you.
So gluttonous, it wants it all.
Just leave me alone.
I have nothing left to give except my hope.
Hope for the day to when I may be with you.
It's a waiting game now.
All the emptiness makes time somewhat fly faster now.
The hours turn into days as the days turn into weeks.
I'm on the way. The way towards you.
And the way to becoming whole again.