I know.

I don't know anything about you,
I couldn't recognize your scent if it crossed me.
I don't know your moms name or all of your nick names, hell, I don't even know your middle name.
I couldn't even tell you your favorite color, much less your favorite song.
I don't know your touch because you never laid hands on me, or the warmth of your skin because you never embraced me
 .
I know your laugh, I know your voice, I know the rhythm of your walk, and the glow in your eye.
I know the way you strum guitar, and the way your face squints when you sing..
but with time I know I'll struggle to remember even that.
I hold on to what I know because it gave me a slight, sweet, taste of what it's like to feel again.
You absent mindedly let words that pinpointed  your pain and bitterness slip through your lips between the jokes, and to me your cover up laid shattered on the ground.

The strength you have to carry all those burdens made you that much more beautiful.
The way you move so flawlessly, making it all seem so effortless, when I know in reality the world rest entirely too heavily on your shoulders.
You're exhausted to your every bone but stand undefeated and I see that, I see these wanders you've made out of yourself with out showing a glimpse of weariness to others.

I know.
I know I hit too close to home, I cross lines... but here, just please let me take some
of the pain... you shouldn't have to bear it all...on your own.