you
I know what I say when I see that you have no heart. You are heartless. What did you do with it? Did you not want it? I loved it before you stopped up your ears and with tears shot holes in your beautiful heart. I love you now, but you look deathly ill and your words spell despair. There is never bright light in your eyes. You don't bring me joy. I feel sorrow because I see you.
I know what I say when I see…because I hear you have brilliance. You speak lots of things and comprehend lots of expression…of knowledge…in different mediums, but you have no emotion. Everything is jade. Everything is permissible and there is little difference in meaning.
Or maybe I see you are only emotion, and not one principle. You bleed derision or conceit or blatant hatred. You scream confusion, but when have you stood still? When have you asked why and expected an answer? And listened. I know you know lots of things. And think lots of things and feel lots of things. Stop dreaming what you want. Ask me what you have. Nightmares happen at night and are bad. Don't say, "I'm fine. I'm fine as fuck." You're not. Don't live a nightmare because you want to. It's bad for you. Don't call it good. It's not. Don't let in a lie.
I looked up to heaven and beheld a great light. It cast me in brilliance and heat. I didn't know I was so complicated or impressible, nor that I was blind and never discerned color. I had only ever contemplated me. I didn't know why blood stirred me to waking? I didn't know I was heartless. Because I didn't know the heart is a matter of perspective. Someone told me. That is why I see you.
