She is leaving...

I'll introduce you to my real self one day. I'm sure the two of you would love to sit and talk and play with each other's hair. She'll draw a funny mustache on your face while you cut a lock of your's to give her. She'll take it and you'll both embrace, squeezing tightly in fear of losing something that has never been or ever be. She is as invisible to me as I am to you. Maybe your invisible-you wouldn't mind holding the hand of my invisible-me and they can run away together.

You are charming with your imperfections and i secretly adore them as my own. Yet all these times I've tried to get your attention I've released a hallow puff of smoke around your face, distracting your vision and smothering my desire for your attention. I look so hard into your eyes but when you blink you erase any notion of my existence in your reality.

You are leaving soon, but so am I. I'm left with an unsatisfied longing to know you better. This magic friendship was suppose to ignite our cognitive capacity. With your crafty sass and razor sharp whiskey wobbles i chase after.

I want to know if you could possibly fulfill the fantasy of you i have created in my head. My imagination has constructed a version of you that it wishes to occupy. The you I created is what I wish the me to be. You are impossibly me. Will I ever see you again? Have you any notion of my pervasive thoughts? I'll have to leave it at that and wonder if an older version of me could ever capture the imagination of a flying dragon like you...