a poem

I'm trying to finish up everything for school, so I'm not really supposed to be blogging, but I felt like I needed to share this poem that Cassandra wrote.
I found it incredibly beautiful and applicable to my life.
Enjoy:

"Bleed"

It's all a dream to me.

But it's there, waiting, lurking,
Sometimes in the forefront of my mind,
Screaming for attention, nagging,
Begging until it sends me over the edge.

At other times, it merely flickers,
Wandering like a moth across the movie screen
While moving pictures in black and white
Dance in an aching, twisting manner all night long.

And then, I'm awake, and
It's only clear when you're right next to me,
With your body pressed against mine,
Whispering in my ears.
It's only then that I can taste you, smell you,
It's only then that the words we exchange actually mean something,
Something tangible that I can reach out and touch,
and taste,
and kiss,
and feel.

I live in a perpetual state of denial.

But your fingers are there, physical, aching,
Searching, making me
Bleed.

There's pain, but at the same time, a meaning, a reason.

And we sing together about "being alive"
But it's one thing to sing, and another to know.

I'm dancing on the cusp of knowing and not,
of ignorance, and stupidity, and rash decision, and
Beauty.

Chaos, and coldness, and turmoil, and cries in the near-dark.
It melds together, swirling, aching.
Always aching.

Life is all ache—
there's not much else I can ask for.

-Cassandra Fredrickson