[hr] [center][h3][color=Lightgray]𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎[/color][/h3][/center] [hr] [center]” Look at me just like [i]that[/i]. Your eyes are so black I can’t help but get lost, darkness has always pulled me [i]but not quite this hard.[/i] You can tell, you can sense my intrigue. Chase me like that, like I’m a faltering dream. You know what I want and somehow you provide. I’ve never had a type and I won’t let our minds collide, but I constantly see myself next to you when I can’t sleep. Your arms seem a little more comfortable and your lips somewhat inviting.. Just kidding, that was bait and you were certainly biting. I can tell from the way you talk you hate yourself and many others. I can tell deep within that sleepy voice you’ve been hurt and sore. I can tell now, too, that you don’t fear death, and for some reason I can’t help but to admire your strength. You take my bruised hands and listen to my heart race, you caress soft cuts and pinch tiny blue marks scattered on my skin. [i]I know you wish for the same taste.[/i] [i] [b] [color=Lightgray]Please. I want time to end if it means I get to stay. “[/color] [/b] [/i] I think I may be getting lost within the life of a man who died before he grew up, who stared right at the reaper and told him to go home. I think I may be troubled with a boy who causes harm but always means good, who looks too deeply and too strangely to me. I think I may have met my match, because when I speak he does not fall victim and when he talks back I see myself. I feel at a loss and confused, unsteady. This man is picking the locks to secrets I hold, and I fear that someday I will be too tired to push his hands away from tampering. From plucking, from seeing me down to my lowest moments and saddest memories. [/center] [color=lightgray] -Ophelia (WIP) [/color]