Anonymous messages sent in discretion, ending up in your possession, is potential Love's way of transgression. Pardon my aggression but you hardly write back, excuse me, i meant never. There is one of my corrections. My thoughts are going in all different directions, I'm aware that my mind is in need of inspections, but nobody is ready for what dwells within. Tears and madness all sinking in, and pestering me every time i close my eyes in hope of blissful glee. But sadly, bliss only exists in fairy tales, which is not this. And if I should die before I wake, please don't send me off without a kiss; to calm my mental state and revive the happiness that I miss.