slippity slip slip. oops! and there you were. we were in a fishbowl. peering through the slick glass i thought madly how to get out of this one. i am out. it wasn't hard at all. actually, it's all kind of soft. all of it. your crazy, wild hair. i like what you've got going on there. why, thank you. i knew you even before you spoke like that. we never see each other. we shouldn't. never ever ever ever. i'll wear my heart on my wrist. small, black and not coloured in; it shall stay open. i sat there thinking, i want that. i want to hold someone so small in my arms, something that i made, something that is mine completely. i'll love your neurotic ways and nurture them as you grow. they are too afraid of little ones who are not normal. i would adore your idiosyncrasies. but i have never wanted that. ever. my insides hurt just thinking about it. but i would cradle you in my arms and watch you grow before my eyes. is this, i mean, why is this happening to me now?

and when you said you didn't like anyone to stay in your bed, i so pointedly said perhaps that is why it is empty. when i roll over, someone will be there. when you roll over, you are alone and void.