Dear You (know who you are...)

It doesn't matter how hard I try not to be this washy..or how hard I try not to think of you. It doesn't matter that every day of my life is spent wondering what colors the sky would be if our suns set on the same horizon and each day I have to relive the shocking realization that we are just a delusion. We are a fantasy I'll never have here within my grasp. 

The parameters of your existence slip out of my fingers like the sand inside class that falls inside the hourglass, the grains that calculate the time of now as well as our past. The specks sift follow gravity, and we follow force like the pounding in my ventricles pumping a noxious mixture of blood and fear through my extremities. I have to scream but you will not hear me and your avoidance is evident.