My condition is getting worse.

The doctor didn’t like the result of my blood test.
He said that my condition is deteriorating.
But, well, I don’t really feel anything strange in my body.
Except feeling so weak and sleepy almost all the time.

I don’t really know what to say or write.
And I don’t want to talk about my illness.
I got some poems that I want to write but I left my book at the office.

I think I’ll just say what I have in mind to her.


Dear Love,

I learned something while I’m here.
The more I let my mind wander around without thinking,
The more my mind wraps itself around you.

It’s like a thick tendrils of thoughts,
Growing like vines into every nook and cranny of my poor brain.

The very concept of your skin beneath my fingertips:
Infectious, and intoxicating.
The very idea of your mouth whispering my name:
Pulling me at the edges of my soul, unraveling the threads that hold me together.
My soul wants to be in sync with you.
Dancing your dance – moving in your rhythm.

I know I said this before, but I just want you to completely understand:

I want you on your good days and on your bad.
I want you on the days where you can’t make yourself get out of bed.
I want you on the days where you are being crazy – like dancing around your place in your underwear, eating three large boxes of pizza all by yourself.
I want you on the days where you make me want to rip my hair out.
And I want you on the days where my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

It’s you; I want you.

Whatever life throws at us, I want you.

I will always want you.






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