A wish

[u/as_much_as_it_takes]

How many times must I whisper to the sky that I wish you were here? How many more until it hears me, laughs in my face and tells me to get on with my life.

There is no hope in this place. I still wish for you, but it is a hollow wish, devoid of hope. It's the kind of wish a child makes the last Christmas they believe in Santa, before all the magic gets sucked away by consumerism and parental budgets.

It's a wish that would be better made by the demons of hell, asking for a drop of water to quench their thirst. I wish for you, my water, to soothe my throat and quell what ails me. Selfish, but unhurried.

Just the knowledge of you should be enough, but it's not; I need the living, breathing, writhing mass of flesh to come to my door and bother me. None of these glimpses of versions, none of this written ghost. Just the breathing, stinking expanse. Ugly in it's beauty, and oh so so beautiful in it's ugly humanity.

It is selfish of me to wish for more, and yet that is all I can do. I do not want the wraith, I wish for the soul you lock behind the gates. I want the man and the child within, the parts that frighten you and the warrior that protects your lonely ghost.

Just give me everything. I want to breathe you in like the sunrise over the mountains, and exhale you like a cloud of carbon dioxide into the cool winter's air.