Stop. Leave your fears with me for they are beautiful. Leave your nightmares. Leave the things you've never told anyone and leave behind everything that hurts. I will take you to the library and have silent conversations with you. You'll refuse to look at me and I'll listen to what that would have to say. I'll leave painful coffee mug outlines in the journal you'be been hiding away and aimlessly draw pretty things around them. Then I will carefully break the bridges we left hanging midway and make a house out of the bricks. So, hey when you're tired of running, leave behind the masks and leave behind your ego. I'll save them in a silver lunch box and cook you some breakfast instead. When you open the box at lunch, you'll see that you aren't crazy. You are just a little weird and I'm quite a sucker for that. I wrote this for you. You know who you are.