Why must you come into my dreams? Why must I see you, hear you, touch you? Why must you say those things to me in that way you do, smiling that smile, whispering with that sweet voice, teasing me with that devilish look in your eyes?
Why are you in my quiet moments? Why are you absent in my wakefulness yet so present in my slumber? Why, out of all the places I’ve visited, is the one space you’re in the one I can’t seem to leave?
Why do I care?