I've been told that we should never compare ourselves to things that we don't understand because the mystery behind our souls is an incomparable enigma that can only be unlocked by keys that we might never find since they're scattered in the hearts and minds of those we have never met and may never meet again. And while I've been lounging around some of the most controversial places in my mind, you've been losing yourself in your own without a thought as to how it would inadvertently carve itself into the walls I've tried to keep upright over the years but maybe, the walls I have are made of bamboo and you're a tornado I never saw coming and while I live nowhere near the ocean, I am shipwrecked and sending smoke signals screaming your name through the winds you've created in my otherwise weathered island in the midst of the Forgotten Ocean in between the avenues of corals you could have never imagined to experience the same way you experience each climb you take towards a heaven that isn't anywhere besides on the back of your hand which needs the warmth only forest fires can provide while simultaneously creating a greenhouse of the flowers I have never received as a parting gift from Mother Earth. The parcels that you send my way are lost amidst your thoughts and you've built a wall sturdier than mine with metal parts and concrete but I have always been a pavement artist that's been impartial to empty walls so I've been dedicating the hours I have left to making your home into a museum that could challenge the Louvre. Though I never said that my fingers were gifted to bring beauty and heartbreaking combinations of grays and blues so please accept my apology if I make a mess on the walls you might never be strong enough to see but know that my intentions are as pure as the pearls that are formed under the Dead Sea and that I will be the ghost of Christmas Past you will never have the displeasure to meet.
  
                                                                            (m.e.)