One message after another floods my phone. The sheer speed of your typing never fails to amaze me. While my screen continuously lights up, one sentence after another, I see you. The alphabet illustrates you deepest crevices in the deserted portions of your mind. Dilapidated upon dilapidated, it's beyond salvage. These stone age aspects to you as your personality, locked up and covered by overgrown greenery. I slash them away, bring them out into the light.
It's all inside. I am not manipulating your mind, but I want to hold it, caress it, protect it, and soothe it. Such a delicate mastery, it can't go to waste, being unappreciated. An onion, the layers go on forever, yet I'm determined to reach, the heart within your brain. It won't be beating, it will be pulsating with your breathtaking wisdom, away from the grotesque facade you force yourself to put up every single day.
You're not a puppet to me. We hold each others strings, we control each other. Half of each half, we are a whole within halves, never failing to wind ourselves tighter and tighter. Knotting the strings tighter and tighter, shorter and shorter, till our skin comes into contact. The cliche Sparks shoot through my body like my long lost adrenaline, my old friend, reunited, yet lost. Drawing you nearer, I yearn for your heat.
