Username; Aysan1
Name; Scroll Wound Cupid
Olden days term of: Paper cut
Gender; Male
Love letter;
Dear Crush,
I have always been interested in poetry, and to me you are poetry in other terms. The words of your beauty make up such a magnificent bean. Like a song to a lark, you are what leads me. So, it is easy to say that I've become quite obsessed when it comes to you.
Have you ever searched for love? I wasn't particular to it, up until I found you. I wasn't one for true love, love at first sight was just a "stupid thing", a "silly mind game", a "waste of an idiots time" but now... there are a stack of love letters with your name on them. Way, way back in the left corner of my bedroom closet, hidden in the shadows and covered in clothes. There in a pretty little box with a single rose, I know... cliche, and papers with my scent. Oh god, I'm crazy. I guess it's a good thing you don't know me.
You've made me quite emotional, and passionate. I think about you all the time, you never stop being in my mind... especially at the worst times. Who needs to be going over quantum theory equations, or writing up pages of a biography, with you on their mind to distract them? It can't be helped. You are the most amazing, beautiful thing in my eyes... Yea, it's a little bit creepy. I'm sorry. It may be cruel of me. I, at times, wish for you not to find what love is, so that if I somehow end up on the same path as you we'll fall into it. In a new way.
Though, with the way I act it may be litteral falling. You are like the icey tundra, outside with the cold to wrap around it. So distant and unkown to me. Yet so much of a usual, understandable thing to all the others. I don't get you. Now that, I'll admit. With all that I have admitted so far it's the least of my worries. When the sun sets I can't compare it to the sun rising, the beauty in blue and the soft pink light sparkling, you can't say one is better than the other. And that is the same for you and me. I may pale in comparison to you, but I am still capable of impressing you. That is, if I could work up to nerve to talk to you. I can't be blamed. There's a lot of pressure.
And I like the icey tundra. It's the one place with chattering silence. An odd, brilliant shock. I'd like to know you that way... Of course, I know the ways of this society. So, to be your secound, to be your your third, your fourth would be amazing. To be yours and your very last. I don't know, I shouldn't be hoping for impossible things. But sometimes there are pleasant surprises.
Like the taste of an orange. In the old centuries oranges were hard to come by, only the rich could afford them. To look at them could leave some aghast with surprise, a pleasant bright orange surprise. Did you know that years ago people disliked it, because they feared it's taste? Just as love is a fearful thing. Is it a silly thing to compare love to an orange in a few aspects? A bright, bumpy round fruit and a striking, shocking feeling in the chest are far apart. You astound me.
But I think it'll be okay. If you want to love someone else.
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Favourite;
Place-- Icey tundra lands
Time of day-- Sunset and sunrise
Food-- Orange
