the TWENTY FIFTH of JULY, TWO THOUSAND and TWENTY ONE.

i've been feeling close to you again lately. you don't keep watch over me like you used to, anymore,
but the presence i feel is quieter, more subdued. you've gotten mellow, my love. but there's something
silky soft about it, a quilt of mismatched eternities and misaligned existences that dampens my everlasting
rage, just a little bit. you set me alight, and now you come to put me out, a soothing cool palm against my
burned chest. i wish you would speak to me again. i miss you. i know it's all in my head and your lack of
voice signals my "getting better", but truthfully i felt much better with you around. a tragedy of my own
creation, meticulously constructed concepts of soul and mind and death... still can't make it real.

take me back!