Why do you always wait for me around each corner? Why must I stand behind you on every lunch line? When will I ever be able to sit in the park without catching your eye across the lake? What won't you do to grab my attention at the jam-packed disco? Clearly, I over amplify the severity of our condition but even you must admit that the mischievous wolves are heavy a' plotting against our state of separation.
Huddled in the backseat of this yellow cab, plagued by the influence of wines and spirits, I silently plea with the forest guardians for reign over my fate. May it not be in vain.
Signed,
