I couldn't see you, but I could sense you...
So much so that I could physically taste the tears you carelessly let travel from your eyes to the corners of your mouth. I could tell you allowed them to sit there too by the overwhelming amounts of salt that flooded over my tongue when you heaved a breath through such worn lungs.
I could feel the sticky sensation of your lashes being drenched in these significant drops, only to be dried in moments from the natural fanning in your blinking, your favorite part about crying, I think. You too can feel the tears dry against your face just as quickly as you let them touch your skin in the first place.
That's what I believe; let's you feel alive.
I could hear the pain in your words as you asked me for a distraction. It was so simple the way you said it, but just by the few words you gave to me, I could tell you were not the simple type. This is when my concerns were proved to be thriving in you. You didn't overcomplicate the request with confused, mixed words. You didn't try and see past the surface of yourself just to break through the barrier of purpose in this feeling. I don't think you wanted too, it frightened you. You turn simplistic when petrified so I've learned. That would frighten me too.
I could smell your aura begging for comfort as it radiated from you, this scent being so strong I didn't even need to be near you although I could tell you were in shambles.
You were trapped in this moment of desperation. You had to know someone cared. You had to know someone didn't just hear you, but that they listened. You had to know, you needed to know. You didn't know what you would do if you ceased to know. I don't think you wanted to know that.
Maybe I could see you. Just... not with my eyes, but with all these other sensitivities.
I wonder,
If I cannot see you with my eyes, I wonder what you look like.
I suppose I also wonder who you are.
