i'm sorry.
beneath your
callouses
and scars,
your stories
and your
silence,
you are
merely
a man.

the reasons
i fear you
grow
more
and more
plentiful
by the day.

we are too alike.

you explain
the reasons
you remain trapped
and i
am both
grateful
and abhorrent
of these
facts.

you,
my equal,
are
one of
the very few
that i
continue
to bleed for
in hopes
to mean something.

i am too foolish.

you sing
whereas i
shriek,
pounding away
at the walls.
i pace
in an
empty room,
looking
for a spark.

even with
all my
musing,
i
can only
return
to simple
truth.

you are too lonely.

... and i
cannot
help you
any more than
the sparrow
can trust
a crow.