And for some reason I'm like no one else in this world where I can't find my own skin underneath my own will and now I hope that my mind begins to still. and now that it is: may it give itself its own shade and become its own silk. For it to be Melancholy and soft in its own beautiful way like it's skin, like your skin after when Id touch you for the first time in 8 Days your skin became like gold and plastered diamonds that I saw from that window sill . Your skin became like a mystery in every direction I couldn't read I became dyslexic I couldn't see. anything afterwards, I asked; am I blind? You became my blind spot you were my blindspot. you became everyone else like the grain of sand I picked up from that gentle day and finally let down.You were it when there wasn't a subject. You became my poetry. Now that you've left me with these awful memories, I can't help but to refrain. I'm afraid. Its come again, it's all over, and all I can do is write these about you. Now these toons aren't only for you they're all about the hue of those darker days. It's all darker but it's finally getting lighter, a different shade. its not like a fighter, I'm just a good liar