Bewitched, beautiful in a cool breeze, the world is motionless and mute, for a moment, as you let me be Lydia, breaking out of London, nine of hearts… Nine of hearts… Nine of hearts… I think, when I don’t allow myself to think too much, that you could be much more, than I initially thought.…

Dare I ask for kindness, of you, after all this time? No. There is weakness in that, I’m sure. Complete, for now, obviously still bruised, momentarily musing that I’ve made things up to myself, easing back into breathing on my own. Banishing you, and yet, still being haunted when I sleep. Could I ask you…

Dark, devious streets, pavements covered in leaves, eyes closed, mouths mumbling, but never mentioning everything they’ve seen. They saw you take me. Nobody else, but nature noticed, as your hand held my screams inside my lips, locking my protests, my body, in the back seat of your car. a soft kiss, on the lace of…

Red on my lips, staining your soul white shirt, my possessive kiss, that becomes shy as the night goes by. I am fascinated by the denim of your dungarees, a dangerous demon lives within me, and she sees your blue eyes, colliding with me, as the bathroom spins, I sink more drinks, I want you…

I’m a daydream believer, and a homecoming Queen, packed up in the same box, with lots of other tropes and troubles, waiting to be unwrapped, by hands that seek me, and know how to heal me. If I may be so bold as to ask, do you feel me? Do you need me? Could I…