Words fill the spaces you dont.
Black ink on a white page prove opposites attract
             And I fear we're too similar
   The familiarity causes too much comfort

Paranoia is a fine art

         But my confidence dries the inkwell in which you sit
      And now you're choking on my fumes
  Drowning in the silence of my non ambition
        I know you'll die,
   *But words will fill the spaces you don't.