I want to write to you, I want to write of you and I want to write about you. I want these words to be on paper. I want these words that I have swallowed and crushed so deep within my soul that they are now just ashes and burn wounds- to come out, out into the open and I want to leave them here for you. I want them to lie here open and unaware; open for you and everyone to read over but most importantly for you to memorize them and remember each word. Know that these words were written for none other than you. These words belong far more to you than they ever did to me. These words were yours even when they were in my head. These are for you memorize and for you to remember. Remember every curve and every edge of every alphabet that I have painted with my soul.. is just for you.
I want the sound of paper against pen and pen against paper to be the only sound that I remember for that will be the heartbeat upon which these words were written and you shall be the muse for whom these were written. I want the friction of pen against paper to create a sort of fire that burns all the bad that you have ever witnessed and ignites a fire so big that only I can contain it.
I want the words to flow and flow and I want your fingers to follow every word of what I write here to you and for you and only about you for these words will probably be the last meaningful that I write for a while.
I want my words to be the only words that you remember once you’ve finished reading. I want my stories and my whispers echoing in your head when you lie awake and uneasy at 3 AM. I want it to be and me only. I am selfish like that but I wouldn’t change it for the world.