I still talk about you
Like you hold the world in your hands

When words taste sick
And I can't seem to
Say the things
I want to
When air is thick
And I can't breathe
The way I'm
Supposed to
When yesterday was better
Tomorrow can't be worse
When I do what I'm told to
And things still twist and turn

My eyes tell a story in a language he can’t read,
So he put them back on the shelf and picked simpler ones.
But i was willing to translate.

It's that moment
when the pieces
of the puzzle
all combine.

And you see a
glorious picture
that you doubted
that you'd find.

And then after
when the pieces
are inspected
each with care.

You see purpose
and see meaning
each too valuable
to spare.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.