Speak

[grayfoxinabox]

I spoke to her over poetry.
We crossed canyons, unspoken words bridged the gaps.
All I said was true, but still a lie;
I lacked the will to tell her why.

I've lost faith in this thing called truth.
She says "You don't know me at all."
All I can do is echo sadly,
"You don't know me at all."

Silence falls between us like a curtain,
"That's probably true."
The veil is lifted,
We see eye to eye.

At last I see how great the distance.

I shed not tears, but drops of ink,
That on a piece of paper bleed.