The days are filled with silence
I spend sunlight on finding answers
Waiting hours on end for night to fall
Hoping another day will carry chances

I used to sing my heart out
When I was left alone at home
Now I fear that someone might hear me
That someone is me, oh no

How did I go
From melody to nothing
Years of dreaming
To losing everything

How will I rise
From nothing to something
Years of learning
Have I forgotten to sing?

The nights are filled with demons
I spend moonlight on finding angels
Waiting hours on end for the morning
Hoping I'd wake up to a sequel

I've only lived half of what I can
I've only dreamed half of what I am
I've only sang half of what I understand
I only, only, only... just began...

How did I go
From melody to nothing
Years of dreaming
To losing everything

How will I rise
From nothing to something
Years of learning
Have I forgotten to sing?

Sparrow on the roof
chattering the whole morning
what was it saying?

It's like I'm writing letter
after letter after word
after sentiment and sentimentality
to you.
"You"
This elusive love has not left
my bones yet
nor will it ever.
It has seeped into me,
and no matter how many things
I write and say and do,
it is here to stay.
I'll fill pages with you,
thoughts and whispers and prayers.
Maybe, sometime, parts of me will move on,
but the parts I have given to you
will always be yours.

If you're leaving
please, leave fresh cut flowers in every room
I will wilt with them as I wait for you to come back before they die.
If you're leaving
could you write some letters I can read when I miss you?
so I can try to find the messages between the spaces
the ones I never saw before that so clearly said you wanted to go
If you're leaving
would you buy me some paints? one of every shade
my world is the size of a canvas and it takes every colour to paint you

Conversation with the right being is worth eight years of silence.