Saved by the wit of your precognitive self.

One heartbeat, or a trick of the light.

Come and set my amygdala on fire with your swiping emotive blaze.

Staring at an empty box. Thinking of what used to be in there. Hypnotised.

All that struggle to change a distorted image the other has of you, while the only battle lies in answering the doubt within.

When it comes to love, no one knows the answer. Except you.

Your own wound teaches you how to heal it. Be a good student.