Listen to me;
You might not be able to see me
But if you listen closely
You might be able
Do you remember me?
We met many years ago
But it has been so long
And last time I saw you
You were so young;
You have aged, now,
You are not the child I was knew,
And I can only vaguely see
The child in you
When we last met,
You were wiser, too;
You questioned the world—
You questioned me!—
You question nothing—
But how you’ve grown!
Not at all what I expected
My expectations were very high
I suppose it would have been impossible
To meet them—
But, wait, how old are you?
Not even twenty, you say,
And this is where you are?
I said that I had high expectations,
But even in my nightmares
I would have seen as you as more than—
Ah, never mind;
It was ultimately your choice I suppose;
You are, older than me, after all—
Age knows best!
Can you still hear me?
Are you still listening?
I feel as if
You’ve forgotten who I am—
Do you not know who I am?
Can you not see me, still?
You, listen to me,
I know it’s been a long time
But you swore to me—
That you would never forget;
And now I am nothing
So grown and mighty,
Can you not see?
I am you;
I am the childhood
That you promised
That you would never forget
You, all filled up with your big ideas,
You’ve forgotten who I am
So go ahead, shoot for the stars,
If that’s what you want;
Travel the world and start a family—
Do whatever you please!—
Just remember what you promised me:
We were planning on a little more than that;
We were headed to infinity
You’ve left me—
You’ve left yourself—
Don’t try to read in between the lines
I assure you that there’s nothing there;
I promise, it’s nothing but empty space.
When I write on real paper—
The stuff that you can hold in your hand, made from trees—
I like to write in between the lines
But that’s only because it’s convenient to do so
And when I do that
Then it is okay for you to read in between them
But here it’s not
Not only because there is nothynnnbing there
And I assure you, nothing is,
But because there aren’t any lines on this paper
Except I guess if you turned the paper
Sideways it would look
Almost like an awkward bar graph
And maybe then you could say that those bars were lines
But really, though, there are no lines on this paper
And since that’s the case
I encourage you not to read in between them
And no matter how many times I say it
I bet that people are going to do it—
Who listens to someone my age anyways—
And there are even going to be
Who insist that they’ve found something.
And to those people, I have this to say:
Get a magnifying glass, if you must
Because there really is nothing
In between the lines.
And once you’re proven wrong,
Stop trying, because the more you try to
Read in between the lines
The more people feel compelled to
Write in between them
And I’m sick and tired
Of trying to read the useless scribbling of men
In between the—
Oh, excuse me, for a second there
I thought I saw something
In between the lines—
I was scared!—
But do not worry!
It was merely the light playing tricks with my eyes—
How it has a way of bending perception—
To the point that I almost would have sworn I saw something.
Alas, there is nothing,
Not a thing,
In between the lines.