And I think I’m randomly screaming things

In your face in the hope that maybe you’ll

Turn around and see me.

I’ve been doing this for months though and

You’ve yet to focus your eyes

It makes me wonder what’s going on here,

That when we look right at each other we’re

Missing so much—seeing different things.

And if I said that all I wanted was for you to

Say something, anything (meaningful) at all,

I don’t think you’d hear me.

So, really, here’s my question:

What’s happening here?

(As inarticulate as I could ever put it,

but to the point and concise I suppose)

(Really...I just want to you to know)

If there’s anything I believe in, it’s you,

(and maybe I’d like it if you’d believe in me,

maybe maybe I’d like it)

But I’m always left wondering, without expression,

What changed (or if this is how it’s supposed to be.

It only bothers me sometimes.)

And all of this happened (a few months ago) yesterday,

And it causes me to ask what where went wrong.

Why can’t we really hear (feel, see, touch) each other anymore.

(Somehow I don’t think it is external)

All of my joys and sorrows slide off of your exterior,

(I’m not laying fault, I’m not, I’m not, no)

and yours are absorbed—or rather, just your joys

(Believe in me)

but isn’t that what friendship is. Joy and sorrow,

their respective pains and pleasures.

I am trapped in a box with no walls.

I need to shatter it, I know it, but I’ve been searching for a way

--for months—and I can’t find it.

I would take you by the arms and look you in the face,

Gravely,

Believe in me

But...earnestness seems out of place.

(“I am a person made up of awkward silences and painfully earnest lines”,

I wonder if that’s why)

I am locked in a place that’s too bright, it’s perfect—

(but I am perplexed by it’s restrictions)

Sometimes I think that we just need to trust each other

(see each other)

and that would make everything (more) perfect (than it already is.)