THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
Sometimes I dream about them, their hands and their voices.
And it's always the same, always the same, and they act the same and I love them the same every time.
And then I wake up and their faces are gone...
The more I think about it, the more tangible it becomes. It's like I can almost reach out and touch them. There are no plans that don't somehow involve them, reaching them. I know they're there. I just know. I can feel it.
Everything is perpetually ridiculous. Push and push for something, now you remind me constantly that it will only get taken away because I can't hold up.
We will be okay. We have always been okay.