bones turned into mush
I don’t know whether I hate or love the feeling I get sometimes when I talk to you, but I know that it feels like captivity either way. I feel powerless and I never tend to change that, I do not make the slightest try. My innate sovereignity fails, and for a moment every atom of my being succumbs to you... or a part of you. Or just a word of you. I know you don’t know this and you probably never will, but I do love you. You’ll probably never know it, but I hope you’ll feel it. Maybe you’ve already felt it? I don’t love you in the way lovers do, not in the way siblings do. I just feel that pieces of our souls somehow fit together, or sometimes collide so strongly that it makes me feel weak. I feel the consolation you provide without being asked to do so, whenever I quietly yearn it. Whenever I’m the only person aware of it. And I cherish you for it.
