I know I don’t know you well. I know I never may.
But if I died now, I would take you as part of my life, deeper than makes sense in this rhelm.
It is hard to know it may not be returned, but it doesn’t change how it is.
Maybe some people we knew before. I can explain it no other way.
The effect you have. As absurd or minor it may be to you, is quite the opposite for me.
Yet if someone told me that and they meant as little as I mean to you, I wouldn’t get it, or even care.
But it exists for some reason.
Perhaps a caressing revenge. From those who throughout history have walked in my shoes and known the knifes edge of unrequited feelings.
When I think of you, it is with a calm bitterness and a wild urge, to shake your bound feelings alive
As if violence could awake love. As if screaming could change minds. As if I can stir you alive.
You sing from your tree top at night and I gnash my teeth in my mortal despair.
Like all games, the moves are planned far ahead. They mimic fate.
And just like a fated thing, I am bound to your amusement, the collar tight about my throat.
I forget what it feels like, to take flight. As your weight hangs about me.
Rain on dry earth. Unable to penetrate and nourish. Smoke urging from thirst.
Death surrounds you, when the sea is involved.