the tadoma method.

i'm trying to do it, just like you said.

to keep the dream alive.

to walk softly, and float when i can.

to find the knot in st. peter's cross.

to find those things

that call me back down to earth

in quite the tone that you used to have.

it's hard.

i'm terrified of forgetting,

but to remember is to suffer.

there isn't any way around

this wall you built,

and i'm so tired of being alone.

somebody told me that you're here,

all the time,

and that you can still hear me.

that you're speaking to me,

and telling me not to be this way.

i told him to take notes, because

it seems i've become both

deaf and blind.

i'm not sure what to believe anymore.

my heart is out at sea,

and my head is all over the place.

my tongue is always moving too quickly,

my legs never fast enough.

my eyes are lost up in space,

and i'm not sure who to trust.

isn't that just like me?

to walk the path of heaven,

straight through the

depths of hell

with no intention of 

pledging my allegiance

to any of it.

we both know she is just like me.

it seems we were both

blessed with a     deaf ear,

                          and

cursed with a     blind eye.

and i guess we have you to thank for that.

 

it's like trying to forget the ocean,

but remember the shore.

i'm trying, but

it's so hard.

it's just the not knowing

that's getting old.

and so, where do we go from here?

can i swim to the bottom of the ocean

for a single grain of sand?

or shall i lose myself up in space?

can i clip your wings and follow you home now?

here's to the readers, the witches, and the brave.

here's to the secrets we will take to our grave.

here's to searching for all that we've lost.

here's to learning lessons that couldn't be taught.

so maybe i can't hear you anymore,

and i haven't seen you in a while.

at least i'm trying, i guess.

it's really hard, MOM,

but i'm gonna give it

everything i've got

until there's nothing left.

all for you.

never slow down, never grow old.

we are not the same.