i think you once understood

when i remember, i wonder why i forget... and then i remember why i forget and wonder if i regret... if no one understands i may for i want to be understood and yet i wish there was more honesty in the world for it is the lack of honesty that keeps us from truth and understanding... so we attempt self-expression, we speak, we write, we paint, we sing, we move, we send, we create all sorts of things... i chose to speak with words, you chose to speak with your hands... yet somehow, somewhere, in some timeless exchange, i think you once understood...

i miss that thought, understanding, and you...