Nothing to say. Nothing. A thousand starts. A thousand ways to frame how I feel. A conversation of parts in my head. You say. I say. Nothing’s heard. And I wonder if this is really the end. The middle of the end. The end of a beginning. A numb little moment of ending. Where two people talk and the sound’s turned down. And they talk. And talk. And the silence of what’s unsaid is overwhelming. A crashing, seething, howling void of silence. Pathetic little gestures of meaning lost in the talking words. And I’m not sure I want to talk anymore. I watch instead. Mouth moving. Hands plucking at the edges of my shirt. Watch with a dispassionate eye. Turned inward. Seeing you. Really seeing. And wondering if you can see me.