There is a stark viciousness that leads itself to a telegraph that most all other forms of communication lack and I dig it. Not because I’m particularly vindictive or revel in the notion of brutally delivered heartbreak but simply for the fact it is a medium with a life all its own.
I love you (Stop) I can’t be without you (Stop) You are cruel with your kindness (Stop) Hurry back to me (Comma) or rather (Stop) Stay where you are and allow me to continue (Stop)
Isaak Brodsky's Fairy Tale
...then again there is the dreaded facebook wall, all public and potentially awful.
You love in me things imagined made possible by my genius at strategy and all per your request.
It’s all fog and mirrors my virtue and humanity.
Why, for you I’m without tears or tender emotion.
I’m quiet, always poised...
Palatable even if not often pleasant and still you are baffled by my vexation at request for my hand.
My love my care,