There are just words that resonate, meaningfully, -as if they have meaning- from the echo within my skull to the entrance within my soul.
And to you who infers, who proclaims the righteous totality and splendor of connotation under the guise of one's own God, within and without, I thank you for your consideration, for finding your words in mine.
For when 'you' and 'I' are swapped, when truth is but a sound and notions dissolve into the echoes of life, this will be but a piece of paper, marked up crudely from clandestine forethought into a portrait of emotions, unvisible.
Should I share my tears onto this page it could have no more significance than the weakest tear in the fabric as it, too, devolves into brusque indifference.
When the thoughts have decayed and I find myself a stranger to this text, I will know its meaning extinct but for its interpretations