Symphonia IX (My Wait Is U)

I’ve been watching you for a long time, admiring you, taking you all in. Like a breath of fresh air, you have blessed my lungs. When God made this creation, he thought of you, thought of you and the perfection that you’d make in this world.

I never had much meaning in this world; my parents don’t love me, don’t have a good job, and dropped out of school. I am just another lamb to the slaughter, another nobody. But you give me a reason to keep living, a reason to keep going, and I am forever thankful for that. Forever thankful for somebody like you. I am nothing of importance, but you give me something to be devoted to, a light in this world. When Eve ate the fruit, she doomed the world, but you are bringing that light back; you have dislodged the fruit from your throat. I am desperately aching for you to teach me your ways, how you were able to do it, how I can be someone like you. I am down on my knees, kissing your feet, cleaning them with oils and incense, asking you to bless me with your greatness.

You are a reincarnation of God himself; people say Jesus was his son, when you are the true offspring. God made a mistake when he made mankind, a bunch of bipedal apes, but he took his time with you; he made no mistake when making you. He must’ve been drunk when he created this world, but when he created you, he was more than sober. He must’ve been enlightened. Angels have blessed you, given you a kiss on your forehead.

Sometimes I get angry when you ignore me; I get angry, I think about punishing you. I think about taking all the anger I have felt out on you. I have this rock that was passed down to me; my grandfather found it out in the fields of his farm. Said it was a fossil. I think about climbing through your window; you leave it open to get fresh air in. I think about climbing through it with my rock in hand. I think about crawling up to you in bed, all sound asleep, dreaming of something greater than me. I think about sitting on top of you, and being steady with my movement to not wake you. I think about smashing your face in; I think about the sounds it’d make, the squish, the gurgle, the thud of the rock meeting bone and cartilage. I think about lying down next to you after the act is done; I think about crying into your chest after I realized what I’ve done. Crying because I killed God, crying because I killed the only thing that kept me living. But, god do I get so angry whenever you hide from me. I get so angry when you are bashful towards me; all I want to do is admire you. Why can’t you see that? I think about the time you called the cops on me, when I was hiding in your bushes. I just wanted to see you; I just wanted to admire God’s greatest creation. You are just so bashful, so shy towards me; it's cute.

I see you talking to someone; I see you bringing them into your house. They are special to you; I can tell. Sometimes I wonder why I can’t be the special one in your life. Is it because my face is too ugly? I am disfigured, I know; I am a creature hiding in the dark, under your bed, ready to grab your ankles and pull you under. It’s unfair, truly, but I know they are a serpent sent by Satan to blind you, to keep you from meeting your full potential. If you had me in your life, if you accepted me, you’d reach that potential; I can show you just how great you are. But no, you refuse; you would rather have Satan’s sperm lie in your bed, lie next to you at night. Rather have someone who isn’t looking out for you. I look out for you.

I promise I will be good if you just give me a chance, if you let me admire you in my fullness. I will no longer hide in your bushes, wait by your car for you, or show up at your job; I will stay put. I cannot live without you. When you scream at me, telling me to leave you alone, it pains me. It pains me that I have to act this way for you to recognize my existence. To recognize that you are the only reason I keep living. My therapist tells me I need to find an existence outside of you, that I need to find joy in myself. I think she’s stupid; frankly, she means well, but she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand what I have found, what I have stumbled upon. I stumbled upon God’s child; I have stumbled upon an angel that was sent down from earth.

I catch you burning the letters I send to you, and it makes me sob. I peek in a hole in your fence; you haven’t noticed it yet, haven’t noticed the eye that watches you. I see you pour gasoline on them and strike a match; then they are all gone. I cry silently to myself. All my effort, my dedication gone as soon as you strike a match. As soon as the fire burns, my love for you is gone. It has turned into nothing but ash. Why must you do this to me? Why must you refuse me? I just want things to be beautiful, and you won’t let things be beautiful.

It makes me sick; it all makes me sick. How cruel you are to me, how much you hate my presence. But one day I will make you love me; I will make you realize that I just want to admire you. That I just want what’s best for you, and that’s why I am doing this.

I feel bad spoiling my plan, but I will read you this letter when it is complete, when my plan has come to fruition.

You won’t know what is coming for you, and the anticipation is making me antsy; it feels like ants are in my pants. My heart is beating as I think about it; it's thumping, it’s thumping for you and what will become of you. I have decided that this is the route I must take for you to recognize me, for you to understand that you are my purpose.

Your schedule is always the same; I am good at picking up patterns. You get out of work exactly at eight, when it’s become dark out, when nothing illuminates the parking lot other than a shitty lamp. I will wait from underneath your car. I will wait for the sounds of your footsteps, so delicate, so soft. I will grab your ankles, and pull you to the ground. I have come at you through the element of surprise; you will not know what is coming for you. After you are lying on the ground, I will climb on top of you and cover your mouth and nose with a cloth that has been dipped in chloroform. Unlike what the movies show, it typically takes about three to five minutes to knock someone out. In the meantime, I will hold you down with my body weight; I will use all my might to make sure you can’t fight back. All your attempts to be released will be futile. Once you are fast asleep, I will take you back to my van and lay you down inside. Make sure that you are safe and secure; I wouldn’t want to hurt you. If I dared spoil God’s greatest creation, the heavens would be after me. I will take you back to my home; I cleaned it just for you. After that, I will sit you up on a chair and secure you to it. Your first instinct will be to run, and I understand that; that’d be my first instinct too.

I might be sick, but this will cure me; this will get rid of my ailments.

When you wake, I will read you this.

Til then, my love, I will be watching.

A/N: I know I put it in my subtitle or whatever, but none of this is real. I am not watching you lmfao; it is just an idea I had. All my articles are named after songs; this one is named after a Grimes song.