Dug out of the archives...

...just an old letter..unsent.

Dear....
I hide these feelings well, but that's only because distance allows me to remain shrouded whether in rain, darkness or light. Distance creates a pretense of safety. I look at you from afar with eyes wide shut, wanting to see so much more, yet afraid of needing too much. Toe to toe, fingertip to fingertip, eye to eye my disguise is shattered. Only behind this screen can I effectively hide. Light emitted diodes do not reflect back to you the yearning in my eyes. You cannot see my face lights up as you skate across my mind.

In the real world my disguise would be as thin as the soap bubble that alights upon my skin before bursting into a smattering of slimy wetness. I desperately try to scrub away the filthy residue of thoughts that have stained my flesh,but to no avail. The steam does it's best to cover, but it cannot conceal sound, earnest moans give away inner dialogue.

The pain I bear in keeping my silence is not allowing myself a chance . I write you of my passion rather than tell you. I don't allow myself the freedom of thinking that you could possibly be intrigued, much less have actual emotions. You began as needlepoint to my heart precise in your pinpricks, weaving in and out of my life.. as time passes the stitches so carefully contructed begin to unravel and you strip away more and more, leaving me feeling naked.

These are the thoughts that careen off the rails of mind onto the page, leaving me completely wrecked at the thought of admission. The cost, a penny in the wishing well, another for your thoughts...

Till next time....
I remain,
invisible.