Late night honesty. Here's the thought my demons bring: I love you with every fiber of my being, but sometimes I fear I can't love you in the way you need.
I will dance with you, though I am no dancer. I will sing to you, though I am no singer. I will write for you, though I am no poet. All because I am yours.
The thing about silence is there's love there if you listen. Just me and you. A book or two. A simple afternoon. Words left unspoken and the quiet sharing truths.
Just trying to survive. This isn't how to live. But at least I made it home alive. She didn't make it home. And he didn't make it home... So it is hard to breathe, you know