You are my perfect pain.
A slow, dull ache that happily resides in the dark chambers of my heart.
It hurts.
It's distracting, unfocusing.
You're maddening as I hold you close.
Like an itch, a fever that can't be ignored.
I cannot sleep for you are the robber of dreams.
An incense-scented insomnia.
When I wake, you are my beautiful, beautiful hallucination.
Seen and never touched.
You are my lovely, self-inflicted, perfect pain.
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