Crave

It feels like drowning. It feels like trapping the exhales. It feels automatic and sudden. It feels like the wind on my face, invisible but powerful. It feels dreamy. It feels heavy. It feels out of rhythm. It feels like an attack, random spurts and tickles. It feels like love. It feels like clinging to an arm, brushing my bones against your flesh. It feels hot and cold. It feels like running away. It feels like fireworks of fun. It feels magnetic. It feels vertical. It feels like an escape. It feels like hope for a little while. It feels futile and vital at the same time. It feels warm. It feels old. It feels like it knows no harm. It feels like a lie.