Written 2 Me

Write me. I demand it so. Write me. Let everything else follow a line or path or something worth reading later. But now write me. In full length something old or new. Something I’d re-read when missing the thought of you. Write me something I’d rather read in silence like in the corner of a empty library. Where I can only think of each letter forming each word. Write me like time wasn’t an issue, the clock isn’t ticking, your thoughts are forming nothing clouded about visions of me. The purest form of me. Write what you see. Nothing flawed, nothing in awe. Write me a desktop theme. Write me a multilayered app, free of ads and spam. Write me my worth. Add commas. Use words like price and less to interpret worth. Write me like I belonged to you. Your desires are within reach. Write me like an obsession… This isn’t ideal you’d think highly of me. Write me like I’m art you’d cherish in your great room. Write me like I’m the prize you’d want to tell your family and friends about. Write me wonders, in a sense where you’re lost in the thought of me. Write me in full length like I write about you. Show my eyes genius as I read the words you’d use to describe your desires for me. Selfishly look in amazement when you read what you wrote about me… I’m honored, even humbled… But write me. Something new or old… Something giving or taking. Write me. Let me use your words to describe me…

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