Turkey. You complete me, in the way a nail completes a car tire.
The way that you completely and utterly destroy me; render me useless to everything I was crafted to be. But, if you stab enough of those damn nails into the car tire, it makes a wonderful piece of abstract art for some sort of creepy, garage-style contemporary structure. In some twisted comparison, you do the same to me; you've made me completely incapable of the things I am expected to do - pay attention to others, dream about typical things (as in.. not you). But, if you look at it, you've jabbed just enough nails into my frame that I am suddenly beautiful again in that weird, broken sort of way... I carry a sense of loyalty and loving that most tires - er, countries - surely don't have.
That must mean that your heart is that creepy, garage-style contemporary structure. Because outside of that place, I just look like a tire that was molested by a kid who was a little trigger-happy with his new nail gun. But when placed in the proper surroundings, suddenly I'm unique and rather handsome. That seems about right to me. To anyone else, I'm just completely and utterly irrelevant, and every other country would be as well of or better without me. But when you're around, for a brief moment of your time (when you feel like it), I'm cute and sweet like I used to be and others wish this Greece was around more often, where has he been?
With that said, my conclusion is this.
You must be the kid who's a little trigger-happy with his new nail gun, and I'm the tire you've smothered with nails that you coated with a weird concoction of obscurity and love and lust...
You guard your creation like a jealous predator,
(and I really couldn't ask for more.)
Building my collection of TurkeyGreece drabbles. I'll add more as I think of them ~