I always tend to ask why.

Out of curiosity.

Or maybe, simply because I can.

I want to know what goes on in your mind.

What words are formed in its twists and turns. What secrets you bury on the inside. What thoughts you chose to hide.

Tell me your story that is painted from your experiences and perspectives. Fill up this canvas with all that is you. Show me all your beauty.

I want to know you.


Until you are as familiar as the back of this hand.

That will always reach out to you but never touch.


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