I can hear the air around us…
I’m searching for answers.
You’re searching for answers…
When the answer has been here all along.
Where there is an I, there is no you.
There has never been an us…except in our imagination.
For in our imagination nothing can touch us.
But it did…
And us disintegrated
into a thousand little pieces…
that are currently in the wind.
I can hear it.
It can hear me…listening.
But the wind never speaks back.
It will remain forever and ever tangled in the complexity of
…we ached for it
…we cried out for it
…we stood up for it
…we fought for it
But instead we buried it.
And never looked back.
Funny thing about looking back…
Moving forward hurts just as much.
when you can hear the tears in the wind.