In the language that I know best,
shakey-handed, crumpled notebook paper, scribbled.
I would reach into my heart and pull out the words that have been stirring inside me for eons upon eons.
and I hope,
that maybe in some life in the future,
you will read the newspaper on your front porch, and the words will ring a bell. and i will come running back to you.
but you see,
in my eyes, I never left. I was always there. in everything.
the humanness inside of my body
wanted to be looked for.
i wanted to be found.
i wanted to be called yours and only yours.
i miss you, but i want to be found once and never let go.
im sorry.
