You are a figment of my imagination, and I have no proble...

You are a figment of my imagination, and I have no problem with that. Attempts to explain and rationalize have failed me. Every beautiful artefact shouldn’t be analyzed. I can still smell you, that musky smell, and as I inhale the air around me, close my eyes, I wish you could hear my heartbeat like a two-year-old with drums, so loud you’d think I was on stage… At the mere thought of you, I am left overwhelmed. 

Reality cripples me, not being able to see my reflection in your eyes, I have no sense of time, no sense of being. I murdered someone last night. I saw blood on my hands this morning. You are my insanity plea.