Who are you to me, my heart has wandered too far looking for yours. I care, and I can taste the bitter remnant of the last time I cared when I swallow. I'm not sure that I want to go there again. I'm not sure that I have a choice. I could hold your heart and peel back every smear against it. I could pull out the crooked words that it believed and the false intentions it received. I could look at it all and not shudder, I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty.

I could help hold the bags you carry, and help you to drop them on the side of the road. So we could be two wanderers traveling light, not weighed down.