...he seemed completely transfigured, his mind one place, and his body another, but, regaining his senses in a few seconds, his tongue graced the envelope, and it was henceforth sealed. With a smile that seemed to say, "Last Resort", he placed the letter down in a place where he knew that it would be found. For almost a momentary eternity, his fingers lingered on it, then he changed his concentration to when he actually wrote the letter. The letter with green Ink. Stained with Salt Water spots....
I pray this letter will find you well, but that's almost a ridiculous thing to say. Don't think I jest, but you must be in a state of horrifying decay. The pain and sacrifice you have made for me make me shake in mere thought. I can't help but grimace when I see you in my Mind's Eye...your wings ripped, cuts and burns adoring your skin...your once bright and sharp eyes a dull color. I can't bear to see that, let alone imagine it like I am. When my mind's eye blinks, your imagine should vanish into deep thoughts, but it remains, cold and all-too-real.
What does it mean to be a Guardian Angel such as yourself? Your hands have probably protected me from the gashes and cuts my body would have normally suffered...your words probably have saved me from saying some cold ones. Those wings must have kept me aloft when others tried to drag me down...those feet must have kept you strong when I tripped and you caught me...yet...you never gave up. How can you bear those wounds for me?
Especially with a silent tongue! Do you think I can't sense you? I may not feel those hands, but I feel your breath against my neck. You've kept me under almost the most comfortable safety blanket I've ever had. An absolute perfect net of safety.
Almost perfect. You can't be perfect all the time, I know. I suppose Uranus was out of orbit, so my stars were not aligned. After all, what can you do with being attacked? It's just me and these dreams...these millions of dreams that burn and sear against...these people who will never seem to understand. And when those fists hit me...Yes, it was not even a week ago...I bit my lip and although I tried not to, those tears hit the pavement like glass, and shattered into a thousand pieces, while you watched in angst. It must have been painful, sweet cherub....I'm asking you not to cry. It didn't hurt. I only cried because it hurt you, I promise.
But what are your hopes for me? What do you hope to succeed by doing this? These millions of dreams that burn within me are shared by you and multiply to beyond the point of toleration....but I would rather disappoint myself then disappoint you...more then anything. Isn't that what you want to hear? Because that's what I want to say, and to hear it...
More than anything right now, I just want a favor before I wake from this peaceful slumber. Let the dreams melt for a moment while I look you in those iridescent eyes and I drown in their blue... Kiss me once, for good luck, twice for love, and three times for eternity...if there is anything eternal in this world, let it be this kiss. Kiss me and hold me while I cry again, Angel. Just be careful not to let those sacred hands grace my bruises.
When you find this letter, let it be known to you I will not make you suffer anymore. I'm hanging up my tapshoes for a while during my tranquil period of slumber while I work on dissipate these dreams. Just remember to keep a candle lit so when I wake up, I can remember you, and have one dream left. Your dreams left mine, like the candle, melting in your wake.
And I can't let me be in your way. So, while I play the Beautiful Dreamer persona, you play the actor on this stage, and make a grand exit with the autographs, the reviews, the flowers, and the cheers, while I lie on the stage in this green pool of blood. Oh, yes. And a candle.
Yours truly, The Object of Your Affection
(This is not a cry for help or anything. Just take it as Imaginative.)