YOURS TRULY

When you are euphoric or melancholic, I want to be the only entity you can think of. I want you to think of me so much that the thoughts itself takes another shape of me and consumes your soul to become one with it. Every time I'm reminded of your essence, I want to let the flames that has been stoked by your touch continue to blaze and destroy me. I want my body, mind, and soul to become engulfed in the intensity of your touch, your thoughts, and you and fall to fragments to the ground.

To genuinely be yours and to be nothing else but yours, I would destroy who I was and who I am. Solely yours. Up until the deity himself robs me of my ability to breathe and destroys my physical form, I am yours. Even then, my soul would linger around you just to see you weep for my absence. As you witness me dying, I want you to descend deeper and deeper into the depths of sorrow and hopelessness.

I want to take over your thoughts after I'm gone and never let go, like a disease that's been gnawing at you for a long time and has no way to be cured. You don't need a cure—my recollections should be the consoling drug you turn to. I want to be the parasite that you will allow to consume you, rob you of your air, and ultimately draw you closer to joining me.