elmo speaking
para kapag pumalaot ka, makikita pa rin kita.
No matter how much I think about it, I find myself wondering, and then wondering still. Because there have been whole days and nights I go on unable to speak, or at least say what I really mean.
Dumbfounded. And at the very onslaught of utterances, or rather harsh whispers, you start to crumble. they can get to you.
I miss you. Each and every day i wake up hoping I’d see you.
A gush of water, a bucketful of tears. It was never supposed to be like this.
I want to write to you all the verses you can sigh at, and say “ah this is why!” But how do I know you will say those words? How will I know that what i sought in vain to tell you is properly transmitted, understood.
