I’ve watched you. I’ve hovered over you. I’ve breathed you in and embodied your exhales. I’ve shown you the sky and stressed its contrast with the earth. I’ve congregated each pointless man, depicted each willing woman. I’ve smothered you and uncovered each unreliable, unrelenting truth. I’ve slathered your interest with intricacy and I’ve thrown tears at your innocence. I gave you time in exchange for a separation of night and day, disregarding the days of the week. Would it have mattered? If I hadn’t practiced patience, if I never infected myself with the poison I chose from you, would you get it? Would you have understood every glance you caught, every genuine giggle, and every excuse? I had yet to teach you honesty while I tainted you with pure eloquence. I’ve acted upon your every move. I rendered myself weak to your sheer personality and fell face-first into your opaque guard. Is that what you wanted? Now hell won’t accept us and heaven won’t take us back, so here we are; breathing, seeing, writhing in between empty ambitions and lustful impatience. Between a choice to take in or take for granted. And I gave you as much if not more than one prior, one following, one that will create terrible damage to your sweetness. Was that right?