i want to write and tell you more

share and give you more

because it is the easiest thing in the world

to do

for me.

but now time is stealing me away from that pursuit.

i want to hold you close, so, so close and make it all go away.

the scars from the wounds that came from… where?

where did they come from?

i say i know you, i think i do.

but really, i know so little. tell me,

how did hurt find you?

why did you let it inside?

you are not like me. you are undumb.

why should you have pain like me?

i don’t understand many things.

maybe one day,

when i watch your film, it will fall together

in some abstract way.

i know you will not tell me everything.

i know you probably couldn’t because there are no words for things like that.

but there are pictures and sounds and when you put those to thought

and compose,

you will be able to tell your story and everyone will stop

and listen.
until then, i will wait.

i can.

i do.