in the wind

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.

Like us…

It will remain forever and ever tangled in the complexity of

what ifs…

What if,

…we ached for it

…we cried out for it

…we stood up for it

What if,

…we fought for it

But instead we buried it.

And never looked back.

Funny thing about looking back…

Moving forward hurts just as much.

Especially

when you can hear the tears in the wind.

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