I have time, and the perfect front row seat.
I am looking for the rules to these words. In them and around them. I rearrange these things so that they make more sense. I make them tell me things I want to hear. I make it so your words leave me guessing...but I always interject in the end.
Then there are the other words, the invisible ones, the ones we can't say to each other. The ones that aren't there. The ones we put there even when we shouldn't. We fail, more often than they do.
And sometimes they come like a storm, carried by some uncontrollable force and you just want it to stop! Just stop, please. Give me something a little less literal, because I don't do well with perfect angles. I can't respond, without using them as a weapon. It's best I don't.
Mostly these words are my constant and silent companion. I appreciate when they go together well, when they create, and when they destroy. The intent and the failure to convey. When you use them so perfectly. How brutal and sweet, and how none of it really exists. The best they can do is mimic. The best we can do is mimic. Attributing any value to them will be our downfall, always. Is my downfall...
So many years, so much repetition. I wonder if they have served me well...
It's been a quiet night, except for the storm. I am just waiting for the trees to fall and this little bubble to burst. One day.
Yup.
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