and i know nothing. that is a good way to start any conversation i'm about to have. i am always trying to figure it out, just like you, and i know nothing more than, less than, greater than, or equal to you. but i am trying. i will hold in my pain until i am red in the face and i will scream at the top of my lungs in empty homes and your words will not break my heart but what you didn't say will resound for days and hours and minutes and seconds until i break it down into small particles in my life and mind, "figuring you out" but really i'm just figuring out what i'm going to do with you, the way you are, not changing you but changing me to be okay with you that way.
and you are psycho and red headed,
and i am brazen and bare-breasted and blonde.
but this is not me and that is not you until we stand face to face,
fingernails digging deep into one another's skin,
hanging on and tearing and groping at the smallest inch of unseasoned skin.
and i know nothing.
but you already knew that.