It's not because I hate you.
Or even dislike you.
It's because of those callous words that your forethought dismisses, which break down what I know from right and wrong. The truth isn't always right, and ugly truths are all you know. Because I think I know you so well, I think I know what's best for you. But even if this feels right, I question whether it be lie or truth. I only know what I know. And so do you. Don't speak as if there is only one truth - even if that is a truth, it can and cannot be right. Like I said, there is more to your dismissals than that. There is a beautiful bit of human in your pleas and cries, disguised by wolfish clothing. But you cannot negotiate, cannot tolerate, cannot apologize. Why not? There is more than wolfish clothing; there are mountains and oceans that separate you from me. You learn from them to be cold and solitary. You stand like a mountain in the middle of the ocean, oblivious of the clouds circling your summit. You think you are alone. And in a way, I understand; the feeling of living with your head high when you really are just a small mountain in the middle of a vast ocean. I have often wondered, growing up, whether or not the great invisible tectonic plates below us will ever let us meet. We are both like solitary mountains, unable, unwilling to move. As time passes, maybe I will get a glimpse of the view from your summit. Maybe there is something I have missed while I was standing frozen to my mountain peak. Have I, too, ignored those dancing sheep in the sky? I was so busy being lonely, I forgot I was not alone. When the good earth decides to shift its weight, gradually, very gradually, you and I may find a place where we can see the same horizon. Eventually, even notice the clouds dancing above and below us and realize our own ignorance.
It's not because I hate you.
Or even dislike you.
Maybe I just want to love you, too much.
Or even dislike you.
It's because of those callous words that your forethought dismisses, which break down what I know from right and wrong. The truth isn't always right, and ugly truths are all you know. Because I think I know you so well, I think I know what's best for you. But even if this feels right, I question whether it be lie or truth. I only know what I know. And so do you. Don't speak as if there is only one truth - even if that is a truth, it can and cannot be right. Like I said, there is more to your dismissals than that. There is a beautiful bit of human in your pleas and cries, disguised by wolfish clothing. But you cannot negotiate, cannot tolerate, cannot apologize. Why not? There is more than wolfish clothing; there are mountains and oceans that separate you from me. You learn from them to be cold and solitary. You stand like a mountain in the middle of the ocean, oblivious of the clouds circling your summit. You think you are alone. And in a way, I understand; the feeling of living with your head high when you really are just a small mountain in the middle of a vast ocean. I have often wondered, growing up, whether or not the great invisible tectonic plates below us will ever let us meet. We are both like solitary mountains, unable, unwilling to move. As time passes, maybe I will get a glimpse of the view from your summit. Maybe there is something I have missed while I was standing frozen to my mountain peak. Have I, too, ignored those dancing sheep in the sky? I was so busy being lonely, I forgot I was not alone. When the good earth decides to shift its weight, gradually, very gradually, you and I may find a place where we can see the same horizon. Eventually, even notice the clouds dancing above and below us and realize our own ignorance.
It's not because I hate you.
Or even dislike you.
Maybe I just want to love you, too much.