Conscious. The one friend that knows everything about me.

He knows what are my deepest desires, and my darkest insecurities.
He knows what makes me fall, and what makes me drown.
He knows what makes me keep me up at night, developing a friendship
with Insomnia.

He knows the memories buried deep within my mind, knowing
which one makes me teary eyed, and ones that kills me, inside.
He knows the regrets I wish didn't happen, eating me away, to...

james, what will you do when you grow strong and tall?
i want to write music they'll play in the mall. 

and you, darling macy? what is your dream?
to fly in space and eat freeze-dried ice cream!

miss gracie, tell me, dear, what do you want?
a houseful of kids that will all call me mom.

well, dearest children, i admire your dreams!
we need mothers, explorers, people who sing. 
when i was much younger, i wanted to write.  ...

He flourished on a signature capability that I myself had always taken for granted. To look at him, you would not have thought my father, with his sun-worn eyes and rain-tousled skin, the kind of man to be anything but a straw-biting farmer. 

And yet. 

I had never once seen my father open a book, unless you (and I did not) count the farmer's almanac as a book. No, he was not the literary type, but what he could read...

You burn my ear, graze my skin, hot. The hair on my neck raises with the bumps that cover my skin.
I hear you now, and yet the world remains silent. The familiar mint scent should be cold. Your whispers mask the ice, but cannot contain the chill running down my spine. Those same whispers cause the burning inside my ear, spilling to graze my skin. But my hands, they turn to ice. I sense yours encompassing my own. My...

You burn my ear, graze my skin, hot. The hair on my neck raises with the bumps that cover my skin. I can hear you, and yet the world is silent. The familiar mint scent should be cold. Your whispers mask the ice, but cannot contain the chill running down my spine. Those same whispers cause the burning inside my ear, spilling to graze my skin. But my hands, they turn to ice. I feel yours encompass my own. My...

love, take my hand and show me
the world in your eyes, cover mine
hide me from the monsters, mauled
skin, yellow, slitted eyes and shark
teeth, leathery skin, hiding in the 
shadows to dig their metal claws into 
my soft skin, (muscle, sinew, bone,) 
blood peeking out of gouges in my 
small arms, red mixing with the 
blue night air, cold trespassing, 
slow, calculated steps, light and 
barely heard, on the balls of his
feet, he creeps into my...