For you in myself,
For myself in you.
I see you then I don’t, I feel you, then I don’t,
And I wonder if I did something wrong,
if you did something wrong.
I wonder if I didn’t do something. Anything.
Plunged into darkness,
alone, I can hear the echoes of my heartbeats
resonate off the walls of the
cage of silence you’ve built me.
Music comes back to me, sorrowful-sweet.
These words haven’t found you yet.
Will they find you? Will they find you in time?
Will I find you?
Will I still find you when you come back?
Will you find me?
I sought you out, in my dark places once,
and I found you, beautifully bent like myself,
but you’re in your dark places,
where no one is allowed to venture.
I won’t find you there, in those labyrinths
which remain shut to the world.
I’m scared you won’t find me when you come back.
If you ever come back.
I’m scared I will never find you again.
My heart, the beggar,
asks why. I know why.
I wish I didn’t know why.
Oblivion would be a blessing.
The beggar will not let me rest,
let me not know,
let me unknow.
I almost wish I didn’t know you,
But I won’t unfeel you, unlove you.
I can but I won’t.
I may lose this part of myself that
I’ve struggled too long to grow.
I return to the silence, mine and yours,
and pray to find you there,
where our heart’s echo will move with us, for us,
when you let me into your labyrinths.