Miles

I taste each word.

I savor each sentence.

The wit

The grace

The thought

HowWhy?

(am I still holding on to this)

I think with my brain and I feel with my heart

(just like everyone else)

but

(it's not like everyone else)

because...

(i'm not everyone else)

i mix the present with the memories into an odd brilliant package like nothing i've ever known before.

And my mom gives me a small sympathetic smile as i sink on to the floor and put my hands on my head and say

"whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?"

(does it have to be like this)

(is this so beautiful)