Urge

I have the urge to run away,
To run as fast as I can.
To get rid of the pain that flows inside,
And breathe in the freshness of the air.

I have the urge to climb the tallest tree,
To feel the bark against my hand.
To have it crumple under my boots,
And sleep under the stars glistening above.

I have this urge, this drive, to just lay in bed with you.
To forget the faltered world around us.
To finally feel your touch on my face,
And search endlessly into your pale eyes.

I have this urge to cry,
To feel my nose and eyes burning from the tears.
To heave and shudder as I break,
And hope and trust that I can stop.

I have this urge to leave,
To feel free and start anew.
To have a tabula rasa and a new attitude,
And to feel the gentle touch of your caressing touch at last.