I have been reading some literary pieces;
For their words soothes me, deeply.
Though some meant a bleeding heart,
Still gives me enough encouragement.

That, is only to find myself hanging -
both craving and puking those words.
Realized that art can be an escape for some
but not for yours that is longing.

Longing for words not from authors
but from the person who means to you.
For she can form words but he can't
That even absorbing those words, he can't.