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Thursday, 24 July 2014

A Love Letter From An Obsessive Personality.


Don't say too much.
I cling to every last word that drips from the warm breath flowing from your lips as if it were the last thing keeping me on the edge of a cliff.

Don't touch too much.
Every last caress and feeling you so innocently laid upon my skin carved it's way into my soul as the earth makes a groove in a stone. It's there forever in a way I'll never forget.

Don't insinuate.
I won't see your angle. I'll see 100% of what you're saying, or none of it. It's all or nothing and all I can do is pray that you've got at least 50% of the all I need. And that's a lot.

My personality forces me to notice the freckles under your eyes, and how they crinkle like small pieces of paper when you smile. A smile that, with your crooked teeth, and pale pink lips melts my heart into a deep pink pool as flushed as your cheeks. It forces me to never forget how your dark curly hair bounces off your forehead when you've eaten too much sugar and can't hold still. How it drips from your skull, around the apples of your cheeks like the dark chocolate that's made you hyper.

It forces me to remember how you've told me you don't like vegetables, and wish you ate better. How you thought you'd scared me because I was so quiet when we first met. How you stand so rigidly, and cool at the same damn time. How you laugh so heartily at your own jokes, but won't laugh at mine. How babe was never something you used as a term of endearment. How mad that made me. But how jovial it made me at the same because I never used it that way either.

It won't allow me to sleep or wake without you on my mind. No matter how desperately I'd like to be free. It won't let me free, it won't let think.

It's found something else to eat away at my matter. Something else to be the all encompassing eclipse of my reality, and that's you.