I want to write out my thoughts

but you’re the only thing in my mind.

The way you’ve chiseled into my scull.

The way you’ve written your words onto my pages in my book.

Yet you doodle with no disregard to my story.

The way you move is admitted in my memory.

Evocative.

The way you sound, your voice constantly blatantly interrupting my thoughts.

like The way song dose when it is stuck in your head.

Obnoxious. Of course

Yet I can’t seem to get you (it) out

The way you suffocate my own, like I’m so close to drowning

Yet the waves let my head up for a second to barely take a breath just to pull me back down. Under again.

Trance.

Like The way you hold your breath when there is an intruder in your home.

The way you are unable to make a peep or you’ll make yourself known to the intruder.

Trepidation.

you’re the intruder in my mind

Yet I can’t let a sound out through the tightly gripped fingers around my face.

Trapped.

The way you’ve chiseled into my scull.

Yet you won’t know.

But how could you not when you’re the only thing on my mind ?