that shut down the conversation, not just for the day, or the week, but for years
brother,
when i message you it’s eaten by the void. every time i call out to you i’m a man without a voice. secondhand, thirdhand
brother,
i hear of your exploits, but only firsthand is true hearing. throw my ears into the void
brother,
when i lay eyes on you you’re a picture in a frame. i feel cheap with no real sight of you, throw my vision on the flame
brother,
my sense of feeling dulled, my thoughts steeped in cliche, oh brother you, you were my counterpart, now i’m
yours,
a man without a name
11:17 