throw the logic out of the window
you spin a web slowly and carefully, twisting the threads, urging them on softly until they do what you want them to do. it's beautiful. weaving them together, soaking them with meaning until they are no longer just blank pieces of string, you craft it with your bare hands, you craft something so fragile that an exhalation of warm carbon dioxide would tear it apart.
some think you are a ghost, but i think you are something else altogether - what exactly you are, i don't know. nonetheless, we cling on to your voice as if it were the only thing that is keeping us alive, hanging on to every word you say because we know that what you say matters.
you've shown me that it's all a masterpiece of everything connected together, beautiful and fragile like glass, held together somehow in an one in a million chance. and in that moment, when the whole world and its meaning, logic, all of it, is thrown behind us, and all i can see is wonder, i have hope that everything is going to be alright.