Unwired

It's through different paths that we yell at each other to make the other one listen. We're just too far to have a conversation while we keep walking our separate ways. It's just too hard to walk in the other's shoes, it's already too much for both of us to mind the rocks and the bushes on the sides. The scratches we get seem too distant, insignificant for the other so we don't even bother to mention them -whatever for? The apparent conversation ends up revolving around essentials that become meaningless. She's close to a bend on the road and I don't have a clue of what it's like. I see colors around me that only my eyes can see. She couldn't even imagine the shades and contours I contemplate every step of the way. I hope our paths meet at some point. I hope my words become more intelligible to her and I more sympathetic to her apparent myopia or lack of interest. Bound by blood, we're strangers at heart.