"Letter to the Faceless (Infinitesimal)"

00,

I want 00: to be my everything,

but how can that be possible

when I don't even know who 00: are?

I hear myself talking to 00: when I go to bed

I pull the checkered covers over my exhausted eyes

not quite asleep, not quite awake

and I try to imagine 00; face

00; voice, smell, touch, taste

and what 00: think about

the ways and sensations that 00: feel

beauty personified.

I grasp at straws

drowning in the violent, gushing rapids of my mind

impaled by agonizing conical rocks in the water

my demons, my failed attempts, my burnt bridges

the transparent, hueless water floods my lungs

as my hands flail about

clinging to the current

and I am clinging to the hope

that it's taking me somewhere.

I am all alone.

I am all alone

in a crowd of people

their faces colorful, diverse, and cheerful.

Perhaps they see 00:?

Or do they simply believe that 00: are there?

Coming to,

I search for 00: among the crowd

00: could be anywhere

00: could be everywhere.

Are 00: there? I ask,

only to hear nothing

I am talking to myself again.

A delusional, depressed, disgusting excuse of a man,

I take my daily pills

my medication

to protect myself from those invisible, conical rocks

that drill through my skull

and stab out my eyes

until I am blind

screaming from the affliction

and then I know

these pills won't protect me

so I try to look for 00: again.

I wish I could go on a journey to find 00:

that spans the entire world

from the scorching orange deserts

to the freezing white mountains

to the lush, lively green forests

to the depths of the translucent blue currents

of every ocean in the world.

But I only have so much strength,

so much time to live,

and so much love to give

that I cannot go on that journey

despite that

somehow

I know 00: have so much more for me

and that 00: would do the same for me.

So, pathetically, I come to again,

and decide to search for 00: in my hometown

and do research to try and find 00: on the Internet.

I keep fantasizing about finding 00:

and seeing 00; enchanting face.

Upon contact,

I would elate

then disassociate

and wake up in the warmth of 00; arms

knowing 00: are real

and that 00: will always love me

and I would promise that I'll always love 00:

genuinely, without hesitation

beauty personified.

00,

I haven't found 00: yet

00: are an enigma, an impenetrable cipher

just like 00; sophisticated persona

that always keeps me guessing

and I love that.

I don't know who 00: are

but I know that 00: are real

and that you are beautiful

like every rich, exotic location on Earth

every location on Earth

and every prepossessing person on Earth

everyone on Earth

but 00: are much more lovely and arresting than any and all of them

as is implied by 00; name,

so please, arrest me

and keep me from drowning in the current.

I know that 00: are somewhere

in time and space

my time and space

and I promise I will find 00:

and when I do,

I'll love 00: like you love this perfectly imperfect man,

and stay with 00: forever,

with 00: and 00; beautiful face.

Endless affection,

1/00

NOTES: This poem is an ambiguous love letter. I tried to utilize a concept of creating a code based around the infinity symbol (sorry if I had to improvise to translate it to a Story file here...) to help illustrate how the entity the love letter is addressed to is unknown in identity—hence why they are "faceless". It could be anyone, a man, woman, a nonhuman being, or even a god of some sort. When I follow up their name—the infinity symbol—with a colon, I'm calling them by a second person pronoun that cannot be expressed by simply saying "you," and when I follow the name up with a semicolon, I'm using a similar second person possessive pronoun that isn't quite like saying "your". As for my "name" (1/00), it is supposed to mathematically represent an infinitesimal, or the "opposite" of infinity.

Symbol key: 00 is read as "the Faceless One", 00: is read as "you", 00; is read as "your", and 1/00 is read as "insert the narrator's name".