You're It.
I would be lying to myself if I said, “I wasn’t thinking of you”. It feels so awful, horrific, terrible, and catastrophic. Who said disaster couldn’t be as beautiful as it agonizing.
I enjoy this and dread it. It keeps me alive with the other sickos that walk around at night. We are the type that will watch you from afar as you sleep so comfortably in your warm bed. We wonder what comfort is like. We assume it can only be achieved in your bed but your side.
We are creeps. We are one. We are sinister. We think of ways to get you close. Ways to find you. Ways to have someone else tell us everything we need to know about your whereabouts.
We will find you. And when I do. I will make sure to tell you, “Tag. You’re it.”
I enjoy this and dread it. It keeps me alive with the other sickos that walk around at night. We are the type that will watch you from afar as you sleep so comfortably in your warm bed. We wonder what comfort is like. We assume it can only be achieved in your bed but your side.
We are creeps. We are one. We are sinister. We think of ways to get you close. Ways to find you. Ways to have someone else tell us everything we need to know about your whereabouts.
We will find you. And when I do. I will make sure to tell you, “Tag. You’re it.”