For you

I write for you. I know you would never know, or by the time you read this, it is probably late. My words flow in time and wish they could have been corrected by you. They know they lack in speech, but this is their best attempt. A message that was never expressed through the mouth although was touched in the eye from the beginning. Hesitation for what? For an excuse of convincing the reality that should not be happened? They will forgive us, but it is us who will carry this anger for the rest of our lives. A nervously occurrence of this blink tears my thought apart. The last hug is still in my throat.