She didn’t believe me, that I can’t write about love. She said she cherishes my words, how they flow so smoothly. She said she reads my thoughts all day just so she can get a taste. I tried to tell her, but she didn’t believe me. I can’t stand disbelief. I threw down emotions and musical rhythm, and I made an incision. I cut open my chest and removed my best for her, but it wasn’t enough. She said I was right. She said I can’t write about love.
you know, i've read this like three times now, and i just "got" it. i'm a little dense. anyway, i like this too now that i get it. it's really sad (but subtle). it actually says a lot about trust and understanding, and the struggles we go through to connect with other people. so...another good one.
