The way your
sullen lips purse, avoiding a smile indefinitely, such things are
beyond you now. Your long, flowing hair seems so dark, if only because it contrasts so sharply with the stark white of that face, your ghostly,
angellic face that floats in my dreams and slips through a thought, but
not this thought.. why do you detest the sun? You seem so horridly
afraid of a new complexion, a complexion that would be anything but infinitely
pure. You're so scared.. your shoulders quiver when I speak to you, I know it takes much more than I can even
comprehend for you to retain any sort of
composure.
I see it in the way you stare,
eyes glazed over.. am I there? The place that you've created, that is, the place you seem to
drift off to whenever time permits.
Time is yours, though, you don't wait for anyone, don't care for those who might
love you if you'd stay here, here in
this universe for a short while.. you seem so drawn to another place, you don't even know what is there, on
the other side.. past the green of fresh spring grass, dreamy
chameleon sky.. but you seem so anxious to get there.
This world is not enough for you. You make me think of death.