you know what i mean? such small words carry such weight. they're weighed down, begrudgingly they leave your tongue, falling flat in front of your hands. your fingers flutter over the letters; hide the lies, hide the truth, hide the misinterpretation. you fumble to find your pace, your trace. you could have a conversation with someone for hours and believe you understand one another, truth is they'll never really know what you mean. words are personal, sentences even more so, but we continue to try. we use gesture and touch in a vain attempt to convey our most honest of feelings but you don't know what i mean, not really.
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