I am trying. I am trying my very best. To imagine one day, hopefully flowers would suffice in the place of an intercourse of mutual delights. To imagine art would suffice in the place of a body. To imagine words are always fat with love no matter what is being conveyed. If I ever tell you I am falling apart, that I am a trying person, it is to say I am using words to establish a chain of myths, legends, assumptions and attempts to rationalize how on earth I continue to refuse myself from swallowing you whole. Try not to pay attention to my voice. Or, try not to pay attention to what I am saying. But, try. Because I am trying my epic best.