Pages of my soul

My curiosity is a thief Pt. 1

I've been told I'm annoying and sometimes I think I am too

That I cut my spot in line of conversations and it's oh so rude

That I talk too much, in my one sided ramblings over the phone

That I ask too many questions, like a child that isn't grown.

But it's because I can't help myself around you.

Especially when you're down and blue.

The truth is, I'm greedy and my curiosity is a thief,

I want to know everything about you, down to what brings you grief.

I'm curious,

To what reason your heart beats, the sound it makes with every tick

Does it ever stutter, or quiver, and what happens when you get sick?

(What made your heart's walls thick?)

I'm curious

To what makes your eyes glisten in tears and turns your world gray.

What is it that paints it in shades of misery and heartache?

(Can I wipe it all away?)

I'm curious,

To what is it that brings you joy and makes you dance with ecstasy?

How often does your heart skip with glee or is it a moment of rarity?

(I confess, you are my favourite fantasy.)

I'm curious,

To what catches your ire and stokes the embers of your rage.

Where do you bury the subtle vulnerabilities that your anger can't cage?

(How do you hide it on stage?)

I'm curious,

To what delves under your onion layers, the complexities of your soul

To witness and understand all the components that make you whole.

(Where's your favourite place to take a stroll?)

I'm curious,

To what compels you to throw your head back in booming laughter.

The sound of it catches my rapture.

(Do you also laugh in the face of disaster?)

I want to know it all, (Will you please answer?)

To flip through the pages of your life, chapter after chapter.

P.S. Please reply back faster.