More on Cole

I wish I could get him to front to write this. He doesn't want to be in charge right now, but he's there, right behind my eyelids, with the others.
He feels not cold, not like ice. But he is freezing. More like time than snow.
Maybe he wrote that. I don't know. I don't know how my brain works. Or if it's even MY brain.

Facts about Cole:

• Don't touch Cole unless he touches you first. If you touch Cole and he isn't ready, it burns. Lightning strikes from your hands and slams into his skin- my skin- like tiny daggers. Talking hurts too. Too loud, too soft, jaws clicking and mouths whistling like a cacophony. It feels like my insides are screaming.
• He really likes hands. I don't understand this. When he's real enough to think and I let him take control, he looks at his-my- hands. Notes every wrinkle, every freckle, every scar and mangled cuticle. Sometimes he traces hands over veins and lines in palms. 
• Cole's presence is numb. His- my- eyes feel like they're made of mist, smoke, gas floating around in empty sockets, like a limb that's fallen asleep. 
• Sometimes he draws. He wants to draw realistically, but he's not very good. He does try, though.
• Cole likes chiptune.
• Rabbits
• When I'm disassociating, Cole automatically takes the wheel, and sometimes he gets stuck for a bit. It's usually a few seconds. He acts like I normally do, or at least, he really tries to. He doesn't want to cause worry.
• Cole cannot comprehend friendship sometimes. He understands it yet, but he doesn't get people enjoying his company, although he enjoys theirs. It's because he's not used to being put first. He's not sure if he likes it or not.
• Cole rarely takes full control because at one point he was in full control for about a week. This put quite a strain on him, to the point that he almost faded into a being of bad feelings and despair, kind of like what happened with Wheatley. He recovered, though.
  

This is all I have for now.