Assistant

Your brilliance stretches over your skin; I wish I could wear your flesh to even imitate it. I am so much as a pig heart, staring longingly at your surgery, and as you lay your tools on the tablecloth, I admire the assortment of utensils. So intentional, each placement is. Each piece of silver spans across the cloth in a deliberate scatter. You have it all sorted out; I am just to admire the beauty of your habits. You take a tool from your collection to raise it low above my head, striked for an attack. It beats down into my skull. Every act you commit, it drives into my head. I wish the stabbing could be my own, but I know I would only patter the surface, no harm done. I want to drink in everything you do. I want your blood to flow into mine, to possess me with your greatness. But with every blow, the only blood splattered is my own, my own pity drowning me. My brain leaks out of the cracks, gleaming in its misplacement for you, as own redness infects me, and you stay flesh. You cannot spill, as you cannot be affected by the likes of my insignificant self. When you finally pull away, I see the tool is my arrowed blade. It is not your fault for my blade's gravitational pull. It is because of you, I do what I did. It is because of you, I scrawl metaphors about you with my laptop keyboard on rapidtables.com instead of doing my philosophy assignment. It is not your fault; it is mine for loving you.

Thank you

We love you too.

You have an intricate writing style. Have you considered making a little website for you to place your other writings in? So you happen to have any writings that you can post here for us to see? I'd like to see what else you may have created since this thread was made.