tiny broken pieces and a faint memory of you

mis-thirty three

he will not understand every word that you'd speak
he will not listen to the the words engulfed in sound—
that leaves from your filthy mouth
he will not read every sentence you'd write and so effortlessly put emotion into—
he will not understand.
yet he creates words from his own, scratchy mind
he creates words engulfed in sounds eloquently,
well-described.
he only understands his own creation.
it is unbelievable,
for he is so intelligent,
but he does not understand.
oh well,
at least he pays attention to his own words