(no subject)
i saw him sitting there, talking to himself, he was hurrying towards his next thought knowingly contradicting his last word. he knew how things were, but he wouldnt tell us. he said he didnt want us to see this. he painted us a picture that we didnt understand, he said it was best that way, he didnt want us to feel this
he was crying but we didnt know why. i saw him sitting there, not crying for you or me but for the ways things are, or maybe arent. he was crying because he knew it didnt matter
he said nothing and everything weighed him down because in all cases they weighed the same, he's always tapping his fingers and clicking his pens, waiting for nothing and drowning in everything. i saw him walking, looking down, his hands were shaking because the sky was so far away and in perspective so close. he was shaking because he couldnt accept forever
he could elaborate on anything you said and did inaudibly, sometimes i wish i could hear his thoughts but then i forget too easily
why do we always forget so easily
he was everything you didnt see, he was the words you didnt read, and it scared you that he knew the way you felt