Dear, My One Hope on This Road to--Nevermind, I won't say it like that.

Though I don’t wear it on my hand, the promise does not fail,

It’s committed between you.

You would be the one, on this Earth, who’d find a way to sail across the land,

And run through the ocean.

The shores would never call, But you would be the first one coming.

Defying every lying glance, forgetting every failed attempt.

Always ready to run again.

If we were two, in those perfect lines, between the ways that aren’t meant to be read,

We’d write them.

If I held your hand, you’d think I knew your pulse was rising,

For the inevitable way we were built, manufactured to run, like electrical tools, without ever installing batteries.

You would be the one, I’d tell the moment I’d learned to fly,

Because I would know that you’d be the one who’d come running to me

In that moment

So you could sit in the sky with me.

All the things I am afraid of,

I am afraid to tell, even you oftentimes,

But still, to you, will I disclose, for you do so for myself and thoughts

And you come in like a tornado,

Little yellow flowers resting on a branch, near the others, but not quite touching,

Touching enough.

I’m still not strong enough to say that I thought I always needed you on that mountainous trail after the lights went out and your whistle left hanging,

Offered to be.

But I’m not weak enough to s ay that you always knew.

And though, those days I’d try to laugh,

Please remember, longer, even, than the length of your names,

That your road may be to the north, and mine will lead to a place of spoken, alien languages, and garments of alien gold, the moment that you learn to fly,

I know I’ll be the one you’ll tell, and you know that I’ll come running,

Whether you be north, or east, or south, or worlds and fires and floods away,

There I will come, so you can teach me.

And I’ll come, like a tornado, starting a flame,

I’ll be there when you raise your walls and build your towers above the ground.

I’ll pretend to smile, every time because I’ll always understand. For you, are the one on this Earth, though life and flesh may die someday,

I want to always take you with me, and write between the lines where the words weren’t meant to be read, and read the drops of a flood above sea, and sing the lyrics of the sparks and flame,

For I can make a song out of anything, and you’ve been taught to make a dream out of dust, and we can paint, and draw our world

With whittled sticks, and ashes.

Only, I have to say its such a short time. And my body dies away, my breaths are growing fewer, as I near the numbered lines, trying with this time to write our story to the world.

I want more, for you to hear this quiet, lovely truth. I want you to see and perceive and to hear and to understand what we can, what we do.

And when I go—because, one day, I will have to go, somewhere on this world elsewhere on this world—know I will come back to you. I am being pulled at by the hedges called at by the ends of the earth. I must go, but not to leave you. Even though I love these things that extend far beyond this life. I will come back.

The time will always be too short. But I must come back to you, and I promise I will keep coming to the day that I finally bid this earth goodbye.

I want to take you with me to tomorrow,

I want to burn up yesterday

And I want, before you die and fail in pain,

To take you to eternity.

My brother, here, I won’t forget you. Wherever you go, hear me first.

I am waiting. But know,

surely, know,

One day I will say it. Because of how deeply I--Nevermind. I can't say it like that