How do I approach you dear reader? I am not your saint. This is not your bible nor is it mine so keep this far from your bedside. And take your medicine, you’ll drink and sink, 3000 ft deep to hear me. Hold your headphones tight and anticipate my voice. Automatically rehearsing your “Hello” and “How are you.”

–“I’m sorry I made a mistake, I called the wrong number.”
–“It’s okay, stay on the line, talk to me for a while… what’s your name?”

This was all too perfect to be a mistake.
Too easy to be planned by fate.
I hold the phone closer cause then no one will know.
And I talk a little quieter because it makes this feel… all the more special.

–“Are you in your bed?”
–“Yes.”
–“Is he around?”
–“Yes.”
–“Hey Layla, can I keep you?”
–“Yes.”

is it madness?
is it fear?
is it real?