Throbbing hearts and bleeding inks

I watched her chew on her bread like it was a slice of Pizza. The margarine curled up on the sides of her lips, she cared less about the flies doing the Shaku on her shoulder. Her bag, heavy, she lapped it at an incline to the driver's seat. She was a 12.. I think. I don't know the assortment of sounds babies can do, but I know a happy one when I hear it. This was a boy baby, yet- to-be-a-father baby. Baby hair, baby smell, why can't I ever recall my baby self? The earth is flat. Okay. Was inflated with air as population increased, it's now a ball. Okay. Who cares? The transition remains the same - Baby, Adolescent, Young Adult, Adult, Aged. BAYAAA! Jeez, I wish that rhymed. I wish I was told that ibuprofen may be my pal in my second decade. "What's your vision in life? Why do you exist? Where do you see yourself in the next 10 years?" I questioned in my mind. To no one in particular. It was even in vernacular. He looked me in the eye and drip...

Dear Asanka, I am happy to write you this letter [Delete] At long last the good Lord has answered my ....prayers [Delete] "I didn't fail. I only found a thousand ways that don't work" - Thomas Kweku Edison I don't know this guy, but we share like passions, Asanka. Um.. not that I am an electrician or anything, But I know an electric shock when I see one. Just that this time, I am not the observer, I am the victim. The recipient of your love. Like the receiver of the first telephone call in 1876,  I am 1,876 times honoured to be called your own. Yes, I have Yesu Kristo but he can take the rest of my body, You have my heart, Asanka. And that's all that matters. "Not all that glitters is gold" they say. That's the more reason I wrote this letter in ink so it doesn't glitter. My gold, my silver, my dade ts3nsi , You are my alumi, The oxygen to my haemoglobin, I love you sickled, I love you whole, Charm me with juju ...