I have tied a knot at the end of each and every thought of you, with each word cast from my tongue I keep tossing each knot to your direction with the hope of catching your attention, even if it be a note that fell off your giggle when you were but a bit jolly yester night, or a slight glance that got caught by a broken window by a random ally when you turned to note a voice calling your name. I hope to rope it in and own it, embrace it and call it my own. Do you still think of...? in my absence, My crown, do you miss me?
It seems I need to readjust my aim; I missed your attention again. I missed you. I miss you.
Perhaps my queries should not be that of missing but that of finding. Perhaps I should be asking if you ever find me. Do you My Crown? Do you ever find me? In the maze of your thoughts, do you ever find me searching for that thought that tugs and pulls at your hypothalamus, spilling your oxytocin and stretching your lips to form that perfect upturned rainbow upon your countenance? Do you ever find me My Crown? Do you?
They have become a hangman's noose around my neck, thoughts of you; Your absence my hangman. You left me hanging. They have become unpleasant, still more pleasant than any pleasant thought I've ever had in the present, but unpleasant nonetheless. Find me. Free me. Let me to Love. Let me to my Love. Let me to you. No. Rather not. Let me to my thoughts of you. There I am with you; never without you. If I am ever to be without you, please let me to my peril My Crown.
Let me be.