I would like to know who you are. I know that I cannot.  What is is you are, what it is you have become, cannot ever be taught.  And though I'd like to say the things I dream about, there wouldn't be a use. You'll tug on my heartstrings, I can't do anything but watch you pull them loose. That is you I speak of, that is you, do you see. I don't want to say what I mean, I just want you to be. How can I ask if you see, if you have no eyes. And that, my dear, is why,
I'm fit for a steady
downward
demise.