It's hard to live on pictures; water, and stale bread, like being in a room full of smoke, until sharp, cold clean air cuts into my lungs, both a relief and a painful embrace. The haze clouds my eyes and numbs my tongue, until feeling stops cursing through my veins; I'm frozen. But you come, and clear my head of the soft misty riverbanks, you come and wake me up from my dreams, just seeing your face puts everything into focus. It's different, now, more sharp edges and glass, more pain, and no whimsy. More pain to love you; more than the daydreams of Prince Charming. You're no prince; you're no cardboard cutout of perfection, you're a person. You're real. And it hurts so much to be with you, close enough to touch, but it hurts even more to be without. But I've missed you too much to go back, I can't get that taste of beauty out of my mind. I'll let it linger, to remind me of you; and I'll rip up all of the pictures, there's no need for them now. No need at all.