I haven\'t written in years
Sometimes the tip of my tongue burns
And I wonder if that\'s why
Who knows?
She looked at me like she might though
Like she knew everything there was to know
How to love
How to heal
How to break
But it is not without dreams that we traverse the abyss
It is without hope, it is without memories, it is without knowing why
So here I am writing for the first time in years
Because the tip of my tongue burns
And all she did was ask me why