I don't understand where you come from.
If heart, then I admit to caring more than I want to, if mind, then I am petty and ridiculous.
I know, there is no justification. I know there is no reason. But I feel... too much.
I feel inadequate... insufferable, sentimental, freakish--foolish.
And hypocritical, no one likes to feel that.
I may deny you, but you will be there.
There to beat war-drums in my skull. To hot glue my hands into fists.
You will delight in your short-lived existence.
So have your fun, poking the back of my throat into lumpy oatmeal, far too sticky to swallow.
I will bide my time.
Working on my visualization, strengthening my rationality.
I can think you out of sight.
Out of mind.
Out of heart.
You're nothing but my insecurity, my vanity, my possessive nature....
But always and somehow I am Yours. Truly.
PS. I still wish you wouldn't ruin my fun like this... come back on the 12th of never?
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