You might be looking here to see yourself, and you have good reason to think you might find it. I write here, in this place, surreptitiously. I carefully craft my words so that they could feasibly be applied to more than one person, if, that is, they address a person at all. Who's to say?

As much as I seem to like words, I am afraid of them, always afraid of saying too much, or speaking when it's not called for. There is so much I want to tell you, but it wouldn't help. I can feel my jaw loosen and flex with words half said in silence, like the gesture to pull your daughter's hair behind her ear when she feels she's too old to have you mother her, so you pull away without touching her face. As someone walks away, your hand reaches out to restrain them but finds air where matter once was.

It is a lonely place to be encased in words when you'd rather be held with actions. And all I can do is

swallow
swallow
swallow
the words down. Hold them down and wait for prompts. Wait for you to figure it out.

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