when you speak I see blood curdling in a wound too deep to touch what you feel, inside of me I hold back comforting words to console you I know you heard it all before, what can I say to make you feel better when I know I can't patch it up or stop the flow so I must keep this traditional ritualistic go to byword to myself, I reach for tissue to hand you but it's nothing but a "my condolences" it doesn't help in time we all heal and time takes its fair share if you don't mind I'll be intensively listening Intentionally non intrusively not interrupting your need to spill your guts