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