• I want to know you, so I read your words





    I have to let myself slip into the sometimes-scorching flames of your ideas, and let them burn and mar my skin. I have to caress the healing marks and understand the sharp-toothed blades that have placed them there





    You see, I know you're more than words. More than pictures. But to understand the snapping of your spine, I have to unravel the noise that it makes on the way down. I have to shut my eyes and listen to the soft crackling and the rushing of your mind to understand the yells of joy that shoot up from the from the shrapnel of your very heart.





    I have to take the time to decipher each of these individual noises to understand that words do not come from the well of inspiration and not from thoughts, but from the very fabric of your soul that bleed down limbs into the ink stained fingers that hold your brush.





    I have to believe that I am not writing untruths or from an over-active imagination, and I must understand that each image is a mirror into the wild and color-filled way in which you live your life.





    You see, I will read your words and string together your sentences and stand in awe of the precision and truth. I will marvel at the silver-coated clarity. I will find myself in the whirlwind of your thoughts and will be swallowed by the imagery. By the skill. The color. I will get my feet stuck in that world.





    My words will not bring you to red-line velvet carpets, sipping tea, drinking wine, my words will not bring you to ballroom gowns sweeping dainty feet. My words will not bring you to calm and silent pools. My words will simply tell you what I see, when I look at your world.





    You will bleed this complexity onto a canvas and it will dare me to fall in love with it. You will sit in a pool of blood, bleeding inks and you will curl your finger and invite me into the chaos, through the looking glass.





    I will stand in the middle of the madness, this wonderful terror that you have released from behinds the gilded bars of your chest and I will marvel in it.







    And most of all, you will dare me to read your words and know you. The way you know me.