tomorrow

i know you do not understand poetry and yet i keep writing poems addressed to you. it's funny how i keep doing the same thing over and over even though it does not make any sense. this is how i sigh and breathe and live. this is how i speak, how i form words, and how i express. you are facing the other way. our gazes do not meet. our words would not find each other. our paths refuse to cross. our minds are far off. even when our eyes meet, our lives are distant, too distant to remember anything worth holding on to.

but this is now. this is now and i know what tomorrow brings.

i know you are not far off. i know that distance is too finite to be given much contemplation. i know something from someone who knows everything, always.

if God had remained silent, i should long be gone. you would have lost me. but here i am again writing prose and poetry. and where there used to be tears, life is birthing smiles and laughter. i don't know how it happened but yes our lives are distant, too distant to even find solace in encounter... but here i am again, i am writing. believing that by some miracle you'd ever understand. on.