Has it always been this hard to read more than understand, to hear more than listen? We have never realized we were falling into the great unknown, into separate places and separate times where no ends ever meet and no words I ever speak would want to fall to your ears. Painstakingly foreign languages. That’s what we know now.
The words we write and say do not any more make any meaning. All we have are garbled thoughts we can no longer send, we no longer want to send, as truths to the other’s mind.
We are properly sorry for all the filled silences we could only wish were empty, just so we do not sigh at suppressed dreams we once held close. Remember the belief about dreamcatchers we once tied to the splintered bedpost in your room that I no longer visit, but you see how my stream of words go to such disarrayed lengths now?
We are properly sorry for all the silent predicaments we could only wish were voiced out or completely annihilated, just so we do not waste away on the could-have-beens of passed judgment. Remember the wishes we made on shooting stars we once ridiculously thought were planes yet we wished on anyway, though we could only now realize they’re but empty entities of gas in forlorn universes that waste away their lights? Little do we know our words atrophy the same way.
You and I speak different languages now and no history could ever bridge present distance we couldn’t help let our worlds fall in. We never tried avoiding inevitability, did we?
Bottomline is: we no longer understand. We no longer want to understand.
