6-17
Some days it all seems so close, like the right words would lead me right to where you are. Most days though I feel every single mile between us, and you for your distance, remain unmoved. Indifference between two people is the most difficult sort of pain for the person who isn’t, and there’s nothing that can be done when nothing is wrong. But if words were the stuff of bridges, I’d build one to span the miles, and traverse the years, to bring me to where you are now, in the flesh I love, and in the mind I cannot reach, the easy part would be to carry you across. I’d deal with the kicking and screaming later. Admittedly these are easy decisions for one of us, as a broken record does not change it’s tune. I believe I’d serenade you every night if you wanted me to, but I trust we both know singing would never advance my case. But changing your mind is as simple a thing as building a bridge with nothing but words, or raising the dead, or changing the past on a whim, or pretending to know