It seems like the world is nearing its end whenever the thoughts of you fills my head. In much despair, I'd like to say that nothing else can compare to the way your silky smooth fingers brushing through my hair. You. No matter what I do. The thoughts of your gentle laughter calming the way my fingers trembled still hides between the blood streams of my head like a record player in the midst of being forgotten. I miss you.
All of you.
Perhaps, you're my dream come true.