You’ve kidnapped me.
You’ve stolen me away from the far too mediocre conversations that come with first meetings. The kind of small talk dedicated to elevators that have no substance and no chance of being more than a "woof". I wanted to struggle and fight because history has taught me that love just don't seem to love me anymore, but your words overpowered me and your eyes captivated me, and I was pulled in.
You've tied me up and gagged me with the possibility of a probable connection and now I don’t want to break free. I just want sit in your world, hear your words and embrace the tightening of the ties that now have me bound.
You've held hostage the lingering wonderment that roams my heart and mind asking the question “is there anybody out there?”. I’ve been caught breathless as I await the answer.
I pray the ransom is too high to pay for my release back into the loving arms of the self-induced loneliness that I’ve convinced myself into thinking is what I need to discover myself again. I’ve never been more sure of me, but your presence is a reminder of 19. The hours seem to pass so quickly.
Then, you kissed me and I have fallen for my captor.
