I want to hear the words that come out of your mouth. I wish I could see them forming in your brain then coming out a little south. I would crawl into that cranium and be surrounded by your deliriums. I would stroll around your memories. knock on doors that lead to your own realities; the malleable perceptions that you resort to during deflections. I want to see what you see and hear sounds through your ears. I want your nerves to be mine, get familiar with your gears. I want to know the back of your hand like I know my own. But I wont enter your heart. No, I'll leave that alone. The asylum for your darkest parts is not mine to rearrange. Nor would I if I could, there's not a thing that I would change.