Dearest Victor Frankenstein,

 

Two days ago I woke up.

I woke up from this silly dream,

where you , actually loved me.

 

You took the time to trace and retrace

the cracks of my skin ,

hoping you would find one to pour yourself in.

 

But, like i said I woke up.

Frantic and in a panic I searched for you.

I searched for you inside of me because

I knew that I was fading away and i didnt want to lose you in the process of already losing myself.

 

So.

I tore at every limb.

I scratched at every inch of skin.

I opened each and every crevase to find you.

But you are gone.

 

Your love no longer resides here and I know that now.

But before this,

I didnt know whether you were on vacation or this was your two weeks notice.

 

I was Ill informed when it came to the depths of your love.

You see, before you I had to lock my door 30 times before i felt safe.

I turned my lights on and off and on and off and on and off

8 times before I could even rest my head on my pillow.

 

I fixed the books on my shelf , the books on my shelf, the books on my shelf

every three seconds to get them in a straight line,

when my shelf its self was crooked.

 

I would have to wash my hands at the sink for a minimum of twenty minutes,

in fear of all the dirty , creepy , and crawling pests

that were currently penetrating my skin.

 

Whenever I met someone

I spent more time rearranging the items in my bag,

or the things on my desk

then i did actually talking to them.

 

Yet, when you came around my door was locked once.

Because I wanted to spend more time locking the chains of our hearts.

My lights, my lights were always on because there was no way i would miss a second

of the beauty God had graced me with.

 

My shelf refused to be crooked around you ,

the second you walked in it felt it didnt need to slouch anymore.

And my hands , my hands didnt feel the need to be cleaned every twenty minutes,

Because how could touching something so angelic ever equate to anything dirty.

 

I met people and I mean i really met them.

I had conversations , I had talks , I had interests.

I didnt reagrange anything because now that you were in it my life I didnt need to be so

structured.

 

But i became more of a charity case than a potential love to you.

For me loving you was getting my own little taste of perfection.

I kissed you twenty-four times before i left

because i wanted to memorize the spaces between your lips.

 

Dismally, I had to come to the conclusion that this was a lie.

But how could eyes such as yours ever tell an untruth.

How could lips that I idolized ever say something they didnt mean.

How could the hand that i held fit itself into mine even though they werent meant for each other.

 

I dont want to know this .

I dont want to know us.

I want to hate you for lying to me and breaking my OCD heart.

But thank you because i have never been taught more by anyone in my life.

 

Peace and love ,

Your experiment