I used to tell you how much I loved you. When alone in my room I used to have fantasies where your body was so close to mine, that your breath tickled the little hairs on my legs, and made them stand on end. I used to feel my empty stomach and touch the places where I wanted your tongue to lay.

But when you rejected me, when you hurt me, I couldn't stop crying. I just cried until I couldn't open my eyes again, they were so shut with tears. I felt that my body had been used, and that my skin was nothing but a barren waste.

I still love you though. And in my minds eye I can imagine us kissing, in public or around a corner; with your tongue so deep inside me that you paint my throat with it. I've wanted to feel your hair caressing my fingers for so long, but I can't imagine you ever letting me. You gel it, your hair, the curls across your forehead would seem to break with my fingers; the way you've broken my heart.

And I thought we were so much the same person that I cry as I write this letter to you. If only you had sat down with me during the day, and we had just talked. I've only wanted to be close to you, at least a friend in your eye - for you are always so much more in mine.

If there was a god, and he, or she, was kind and gentle, then I believe that we would have been together. Or maybe this is a lesson that I must learn in life, though something this painful can hardly be turned good.

Please just touch my arm, and let me know that you understand. Please just, hold me. And talk to me, tenderly, tell me that I'm special, maybe that I'm beautiful. That you want to be with me, because you are the only object I desire in this mortal world. Without you, I couldn't have lived so far.

But I wonder, if you would cry and visit my grave when I die. If you would touch my tombstone, or the place where my ashes are buried, scattered to the wind my burnt flesh and bone. I could, would do the same to you. I would press my palm against the earth where you lay, the last place we talked or the last place I saw you. I would wish you reborn, I would wish at least that your corpse could lie next to my body, that I could feel the contours of your face once more, and gaze at you through these sinning eyes.

Deliver me, from all my pain.

I cry when I think of you now. You're close to me, across the street sometimes and next to me during the day. But if only you would be with me a whole day, would say to me, "Taylor, let's leave this place and go. Let's just walk, come with me. Be with me? I want to talk to you."

You always look so alone, with your hands in your pockets as you walk. Your eyes on the ground; Lost in thought, I think.

My head hurts, god does it hurt. I haven't slept; my mind keeps your image replaying over and over again. Behind my closed eyelids you drift through as if sweet smelling perfume. Wisps collecting around me, beautiful curling tendrils wrapped through my head. Burying me, suffocating me as they fill my nose, holding me against my will.

And deliver me from this madness, speak in words that I can understand. In a simple, English language that I can understand the way you feel. And take me in your arms, so that we can be safe, in each other's arms. One tucked around my chest, and across my stomach I hold each arm and stroke the dark hairs on your arms.

God just take me, I can only devote my love to you.

But you never open yourself to me, to strip away your flesh like the petals from a beautiful flower. Each inside petal more stunning than the last, to the touch a wetness that soaks me to the bone.

Talk to me, tenderly, show me all your fantasies.