he wanted to read my poetry yet when i tell him there's much that needed to be said, he doesn't ask to hear more. i want to show him the letters and poems i hide in my notebooks, for, they are braver than i will ever be, but he does not understand fear as he is always out to conquer them. he's a paramedic, so all the blood he's seen is red. i don't think he will ever understand that i bleed black ink.