I've never met you.
In fact, I don't know anything about you.

Well. Except your innermost thoughts, feelings...fears. Emotions.

Those I know.

I know those, and I know your favorite quote, your favorite song, favorite book, and movie.

I know your words.

I see them roll around my mind,
as your soul reluctantly creates a form behind my eyes,
behind my computer screen.

I know your voice,
today.
A voice that hungers to be heard.
To be valued.

And our fingers feed us through a keyboard.

Our blood spills across a paper, nervously eager,
to shriek our secrets gracefully across the thousands of minds it may touch.

Do I want this?

Can I bear exposing myself?
No one hears my thoughts but me—
the scrambled images that I see.
I can't resist!
I lose control.

The pen takes my hand,
the hand takes my words,
the words rip at my heart,
as I let you see
a little bit of me.