I'd let you put your hand on my chest and tell you to close your eyes and see the kingdoms beneath my skin. Caverns and tunnels left barren and untouched, ready to be discovered, lie in wait for intrusion and the human touch. All these roads and back alleys follow up into the intersection of my heart and sanity. "You built this world on dreams, bricked fantasies and concrete love" you would say, if we existed. But if I did the same, would there be paper walls or wall paper skin? Would there be a barrier to entry or the warmest welcome yet to be given to me?

       I would love to be your dream house, and play all the roles of the pieces inside, trying to be all the functions you need and deserve and use to survive. If I knocked, would you let me in? For our hearts are brittle oragami folding and unfurling in our chests; our life supply, so soft inside these metallic apparatus's we operate on demand. I will be ready to operate whenever you wish and my metallic lips will kiss you and our lives will never rust.

       We've built these systems of ourselves, our clock work hearts, our factories of suspicion, and our steel vaults concealing our trust. We will go far; the farthest leagues whether it stretch arms length and beyond, or a thousand leagues below the most hungry and sleepy sea.

       We'll build our own worlds. I myself have this Empire Heart; it beats for the people, but it beats most importantly for you. With me, you'll never be alone. Sometimes the clouds swoop in at night, blocking out your view of the stars, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. I'm always here. I am an everyday forecast. Desolation will never be an option when I exist in your world or in your dreams.

       This world with a purpose, while purposefully perilous paths deter from direction, intersects and overlaps to create a maze built by masterminds. I refuse to romanticize with this belief though I will play along and remove myself stage left when I feel the need to be absolutely necessary. Time and goodbyes must conspire in order to keep the assembly line frantically recycling. So much movement for a planet that leads us to believe we're standing still, but then again, this world was built for me and you and is hidden in the confines of my hearts reality. I've simply been living in a dream about you. Would you taint something beautiful to make it perfect? Or would you destroy something perfect to make it beautiful? That's how this world is and the human version of "reality" fascinates me; It entails nothing really. So long as you alter every microscopic detail to standardised fraud. To think all this is encased in the refines of my cage like chest.