not that this bothers me, the shades of your silliness. the presence, my dear. because if it did then, i would’ve ceased at delivering these words. admittedly then, the silly person, i suppose, must be me.
brief and half-silent, in an empty space, at a corner of my room. back against the wall, arms hugging knees close to the chest, eyes mid-air, breathing.
i soulfully wonder of these devoted feelings i have. because the quality it posses is abysmally surpassing the extremities of emotions. simply to tell that, i am madly attracted.