YOU.
When you look at me, what do you see?
When you listen to me, what do you hear?
Do you know, really know, that the deeper I breathe, the higher I float? or would you have me hold my breath and sink lower into myself?
Are my scars ugly to you? do they mark me as disfigured and damaged? or are they a part of my beauty?
Will you let me be silent, or compel me to speak?
Will you wait for me at the summit, or would you drive me to climb?
And would I make the descent on my own, once again?
ME
When I see you, I see myself.
When I listen to you, I hear your humanity.
I know that the deeper you feel, the higher I float. And I will never grasp your face, your lungs, and keep you from breath.
Your scars are my roadmap. They mark you as my inspiration. They are your gift to me, when you allow me to touch them.
I will let you be silent, and never compel you to speak.
I will be your walking stick for the whole journey, and bandage your blisters. And celebrate your arrival at the summit. And then carry you back down.
And I will be forever changed.