Tell me, do you ever think about all the things left unsaid?
Like how you could go an entire day talking and know that there are still words that haven’t made it pass your throat
and you choke a little everyday but no Heimlich maneuver will ever force you to say them so you become familiar with your limited air
Or how you can read every word off the dictionary but you know you will not have said it all
because there is more than one dictionary, and there is more than one language
and you know that everyone always comes up with a brand new word or a brand new way to name things because we would go insane if we couldn’t stamp a label on the unexplained
And we know that dictionaries are just composed of the things that the authors have said
so even if everyone on this planet became authors there still lies a word out there suspended in space
Not because it belongs to no context but because we will always have a tendency to forget
and more often than not we will find ourselves agreeing so much that we fail to see the words that are left in the dusty corners of our minds
How funny it is that sometimes we are speaking but it seems like no one is saying anything at all
How funny it is that each one of us at some point becomes noise?
Because words can build sentences and paragraph and an entire autobiography but it will not be enough to build skyscrapers or pillars or bridges
Because sometimes the only way to bring people closer is through joined hands and eyes that never leave each other
through hugs that linger, and kisses pressed on foreheads, or cheeks, or lips
Sometimes the best way to say I love you is the brushing of fingers through hair and the circling of arms around bodies
sometimes these are the best ways to tell someone you are there
And there are moments a promise becomes much more concrete through swears with the pinkies and rings that we slip on fingers
It is when we transcend our words that they become meaningful
Tell me, do you think about all the things left hidden?
Like the treasure your buried in your backyard, or the skeletons that you still keep in your closet
or the books that fill the shelves but you know that for every one you read, there is another that you haven’t
and there is one that isn’t on your shelf
and there is one that hasn’t even been written
Because maybe life is just this huge game of hide and seek
and we spend all our time looking for what is hidden that we’re nearly startled to death when we are found
How funny it is that the more we look for something, the more we are hiding ourselves from something else?
And every meeting, every hello and goodbye, are all part of the game of passing by
But there is one special moment when you are in limbo
where the thing you are looking for is the thing that finds you
and here the words only become noise
Because it takes more than words to make spaces
and so we are fine to leave the things left unsaid