On the Tip of my Tongue Dreaming

Sitting up, waking up and I'm slowly thinking  
again, and its only about you.  
You are the dream I know I've been having  
but am never really good at remembering.  
 
Oh, hear the daylight? It calls me.  
Yet you're still sitting on the very edge of my memories,  
already too faded, too far gone  
for my mind, my hands to hold on.  
 
Pebbles of pieces that make small ripples  
in the pools, disrupting stagnation of mind.  
Never too big, no aid to create massive waves,  
and always too subtle to claim any lasting effect.  
 
It's being give a taste of food when you've been starving.  
It's an ocean of salty water when you're thirsty.  
Something's got to give, I hope, I think,  
but once again, you slip away just when I think I can reach.  
 
It's a cloud resting on the distance horizon through my desert wanderings.  
It's one loose stitch that makes me completely unravel.  
And all I want is you when I wake,  
but all I get is the memory of your face.  
 
Your name lives in my thoughts,  
begging to be on my lips  
but I always hold it back just so  
because should I say it, next thing I'll feel is your hands on my hips.  
 
A ghost tormenting my dreams,  
giving me pieces, tastes and it seems  
that I may love, may want you just a little too much  
for my heart to stand because I miss you much too keen-ly.  
 
So if it sounds like too much then won't someone explain  
this damn smile on my face as my eyes begin to wake  
and holding on to that sweet glimpse of your face,  
despite the pain the day will bring with your absence made so plain.  
 
So for now, my mind I don't reprimand,  
because its the one place I can find you  
and until I can, with eyes, see you again, I cling to  
the edge of memory.  
 
"Only something you truly love can hurt this much"