It’s not that I haven’t made an honest attempt
To translate my heart to you.
I’ve tried. God, have I tried.
To get through to you
To connect with you
To hold onto some spark of hope
That one day it’ll click for you
And you’ll just get it, you’ll suddenly have an epiphany, a dazzling revelation
And you’ll understand who the hell I am
But the spark of hope continues burning in my grasp and the fire is never put out and it’s torture. Absolute torture.
To come to the stark realization that there are parts of me that must always be inaccessible to you.
Parts of me that must always remain untouched by you.
Though I’ve led you to them, grabbed your hands and attempted to apply them to those places I desperately wish for you to see and to feel and to have and to hold.
But there are some things that simply will never be.
There are some wishes that simply will never be granted.
And there are some of us doomed to be perpetually misunderstood.