I feed on this. I breed on this, my friend. I call this the roots infesting veins of my stand. I have watered and flamed just for you to smelt this. Sometimes in hope that you can taper the edge in ways I crave. Often in oblivion of my unconscious longing, I have whispered for you to strike this a bit harder or perhaps, a tad less. However, toil harder and plant more woods in me. More and more till the infinite seconds bound you to me. Be warned, I am not your friend but merely a symbiotic parasite. As long as you sweat for me, I shall sweat for you. Your warmth: my pennies. Your hours: my sensibilities. Your secrets: my worries. You give me inch, I give you yard: I give you inch, you gave me yard. I give you fire, you give me roots. My woods feed your flame, your smoke plague my veins.
Yours even as I fear to be.