Why Words Aren’t Enough
I keep trying to say something of what the heart knows without learning it but it’s like explaining why the sky bruises purple just before dark or why leaving still tastes like metal in my mouth. The words aren’t wrong but they feel too small too thin for what they’re meant to hold. I try to speak honestly and end up with something like a coin slipped into the wrong person’s hand. Still, there’s a beauty in the trying, a stubborn, mule-hearted beauty. We keep lifting the words as if they were stones on a hill we know we’ll never finish climbing. And yet we climb. Because sometimes a single syllable comes close, not to telling the truth, but to becoming the ache of it.
Thank you for reading and spending time in my small corner of the world.
I am grateful for your presence!


Grateful to @Jacqueline's Creative Outlet for this restack—thank you, Jacqui!
Thank you for the share, @Lique ! 🙏😊