I could listen to your midnight voice for hours, talking about nothing and yet everything.

Please don't make me talk about it  
                      make me repeat the cruel words she wrote
                      make me take you step by grueling step
                      make me say the words I'm struggling to spit out
                      make me explain my depression
                      make up excuses
                      make me lie
                      make me fall for you

How can you see me the way you do?
What do you see?
Is your vision selective?
Is it biased?
*How can you care so much about something so broken?

Stay a little longer --
10:30, 11...
No, I'm not tired --
11:30, 12...
Officially, then --
12:30, 1...
I guess we should sleep --
Zzz...

I can still taste your breath mixed with mine

Heat travels up my spine,
endangering what's left,
but you know how to quench the flames.

Lust moves quick, winding its way through your body like a tornado in the plains.

Your eyes are even more beautiful when they're set to the background rain

And I know I'll spend the next two months avoiding words I should've said then, so I'll opt to write them on your freckle covered shoulders and hope that you'll understand