Unspoken Truths

I’m going to close my eyes and allow myself to think of you. To think of us- sitting side by side, engaging in harmless banter, taking it by the day. I’m allowing myself to think of what you mean to me. I don’t know where I pulled this phrase out of, but it has stayed with me- to me, the sound of your voice has come to become my anchor and stay. With these within my reach, I can adjust these sails to the wind and be on my way.

I have heard many speak, and sell me their truths, but, for some reason, when I listen to my heart, it brings me back to you.

There are days when I wonder what you would say- there’s a part of me that already knows, but these whispers can’t be half as convincing as you. I yearn to, once again, hear you speak with conviction, the way you do. I need to be told, once again, that all that I have constructed in my head, is but an extensive mirage. These images that play with, they have me trapped, and I would like me some liberation. Speak out loud that which will counteract these demons in my head- tell me about the world in a way that I fear to let myself believe. I am listening with bated breath… this is not hesitation, I am listening.

When I met you, there was no yesterday and I hardly had a thought to spare for tomorrow. When it came to having to go my own way, the distance hardly worried me. I had neither your coordinates, nor your digits, nothing but my dreams to lead me. And when we found our way back to facing each other, it felt like we had never been apart. But the fact of the matter was that we had. Time had worn itself thin on your shoulders, and there were cracks on your usually unruffled, velvet surface. I had had premonitions of them, but to what good did they amount when I had not reached out. I reasoned- what could I have said? How could I have explained what I had known? I’m not past this struggle; but tonight, it is making me weary. I cannot communicate that which is eternal in this fleeting moments measured by time. I am groping, and these thoughts need to be given structure through your words – please. Tell me what it is that I’m thinking, and what it is that I’m running away from. Bring out the secrets that I can’t even tell myself in the solace of solitude. I am desperate to hear them, I’m ready. Is this deliverance?

I have wandered through many a soul, asking questions, probing to hear what they have to say. Alas, they are lying to themselves, and so they are lying to me anyway. Lies, these my heart can cook up on its own. Truths, the fuel to the fire of my burning soul, they are hidden and mostly unspoke.

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