I wish I could find the words
But I can't:
There are none.
And I used to be able to paint
When I couldn't speak;
Now my canvases remain blank, barren, off-white
Because no color can touch language
With deafening silence standing ominous guard
At misestimation's side
While the ghost of communication
Looks on with increasingly defeated eyes.
How can two people claim to know each other
When neither of them know anything at all?