How could I even begin to convey to another how I truly felt? Perhaps the necessity to put into words is not needed. I sat and held hands with the molten honey, kissed the fire embers over and over, I did it. These people only exist in my mind as the raw emotion brought about by their raw emotion. Maybe my raw emotion is their raw emotion, or maybe not. Does it matter, I mean to say, is it necessary to know what the other felt? Maybe we all feel the same way all the time but we describe it differently. Maybe we feel completely different all the time and we try so hard to convince the other. I know this though. I feel a strange feeling that would look like a dark purple gem. I feel a slight sinking of the inner heart but the outer skin of my heart pulls up. It pulls up through my chest, up to the base of my throat. It manifests through my body to my eyes. This fury hides behind the ducts of my eyes. My heart is cold, my chest is warm, my eyes are tired. I can’t name it because a single name would be too broad. And when I think of Austin… The feeling intensifies to the point that I wish to weep. He passed away some time ago now. I can say that it hurts now because the front of my throat, the Adams apple, it feels like there is a weight connected and the weight is pulling down my throat into my stomach. With every breath I feel the same, with every blink I feel still. I miss my brother.
I am a man, this is so I am tall, I am broad I am seen as untouchable, immune to hurt This is not true Under the muscle Under the broad shoulders of this man there sits a sensitive heart It sits there unrecognized by many Many that do not know, that what they say hurts "It will just glance off him" they think But in truth, it strikes to the very core They do not know of my tear stained pillow They do not know of my heartbreak, The isolation that welcomes me They think they know me but they don't They do not really know my manly but *sensitive heart
There are those who are sensitive but nobody knows, even those closest to them. Try to be kind to all those who you are in contact with for who knows. They may be sensitive, when nobody else knows.
I gave you a warm meal You called me nice I gave you a roof for the night You called me kind I gave you a bed and a fleece blanket You called me compassionate I gave you a set of clean clothes You called me thoughtful I gave you money for necessities You called me generous