The only reason people tend to like me is I’m simply a harlequin,
A jester with a thousand masks but no real face.
When I’m in your loving, creative, seemingly mild aura,
It helps me wear a mask that reflects you so well.

You’re brilliant, in my eyes, perfect to all aspects of the world.
I just try to give it back.
It’s kind of odd, some weird coping technique.
You’re making me fall in love with you.

And you have no idea how –
I don’t know –
No less word than ‘Honored’ applies
That you compliment me so
When I feel like some dark, emotionally dry spot
Near all your beauty.

I’m falling in love.
You’d say, “I don’t believe that.”
Better off for us both that way, sadly enough.
I’m like some cancerous disease.
And I’m used to keeping my love close,
Admiring from afar.
I am the anti-Midas, all I touch turns to dust.
So I’ve gotten used to just admiring.
Loving and wanting, enjoying the bittersweet twinge.
It’s almost more than love, it’s adoration.

But more importantly,
Can I still cherish you as a friend
And love you at the same time?
It’s not as if we can be together;
I just hope it doesn’t complicate things.
I’d rather not love, it’s just a crutch.

…

Ignore me.
Maybe I’m morbid.
Maybe the world just sucks.
But reality is relative, so I’ll never know.

You’d say, “Stop it.”
Stop what?
Does it bother you?
The connection?
The draw?
You’ll notice it less
As we talk for a longer period of time.
Or I can try to shut up.
Whatever you would have me do.

You have me hanging off a cliff.
You stop, I drop.
“I’ll catch you.”
You better.

I actually feel like some narcissistic freak
Just rambling on and beaming in the irresistible glory of your affection.
I wish you’d tell me more about yourself.
You’d say, “There’s nothing to tell.”
Now you lie to me.
“I lead a very boring life.”
As do I.
The more time spent in the head, the less spent out.
It’s just the give-take of it.
Beauty or intellect,
Thought or action.
Sickening balance, I wish I could break it
And relieve all my sarcastic tendencies in the destruction of the system.

I can’t get sadistic when I’m this deep in energy, though.
There’s a pleasurable version of this trance that certain
Triggers –
Like you make with me.
Call it the darkness to light.

My voice is my only decent quality
And the more relaxed I get, the better I can use it.

I’d say, “Achingly handsome.”
That’s the underlying adjective that beats against my mind when I’d talk to you.

You have something in mind, I can feel it.
But it’s not important to me.
And if it’s something I can’t cope with
In notice of my admittedly shallow human programming,
It’s not worth your time.
And I really don’t want to make your time worthless.

Deep psychosis and a shattering of an unstable mental world is necessary
For this joking,
And I’m not really anything special.

I wish I could turn this off.
It feels like I just broke a rib.
But no doubt it will gently fade out in the passing minutes.

I’m going to live in the middle of nowhere –
Completely separate.
Maybe I can shut this off – or normalize
This…
Debatable ability of mine to sense and alter states of –
It’s hard to explain,
Not emotion,
But sensation.

Ah, I could rant forever about a simple connection.
I’ve told you that certain people and I seem to attract each other,
Generally those who possess a lot of energy.
Most beacons glow with it, but you’re different,
Which is good for the most part.
I never enjoyed being like anyone else.

It’s like drowning, I assume.
The way darkness can caress opposed to the way light bombards.
Almost like you’re a flavor.

And even “I love you,” fails to express
The absolute adoration I feel for you.
I hope we talk soon…