paper. your skin, it's like paper; pale, translucent, fragile, and yet -- it comes from something so strong. i wanted to write all over you, make you mine but i couldn't, out of fear you'd shred i was never good with words, i know, but try to understand -- it's the thought that counts and the thoughts i pen down on this, my temporary paper
and you'll never read this, jacobson, but you should know; t.j.