PART I
Little pitter-patters on the back of this mind filled with contained laughter. Where can you see this beam of light echo against a metal platform.
What? Insane? Me? No.
It's just that... the voices in my head are too loud. They crowd my mind with their nonsense and their names unmarked.
PART II
Your hands seem so warm against this cold.
But... stop. Why won't hands so warm hold mine--against yours--and feel skin against skin and melt...
Just... melt.
And not care about reality because it doesn't matter when you and me seem to blend. And all you'll think about is that strand of hair against my lips... so kiss them.
Forget. And just... melt.