I heard your soul cry out to me.
Vague, though it was...
to think that someone else's soul belonged to you.
That their emotions matched yours.
But I felt responsible
for I heard something that no one dared acknowledge.
Some people see your pleasantries.
Your words laced with optimism.
But I remained silent,
as I heard your wounded soul trying to mend your heart.
I'm cautious as I see you tending to your self-inflicted pain.
I let you know of my presence,
of my soul that reflects your own.
And I silently hope that it's enough.