i’m standing on the edge of a cliff.
i’m waiting for the wind to push me over the edge.
i don’t have the courage to jump.
the only thing that’s keeping me on the cliff,
is a shimmer of hope that someone will grab me,
and pull me away from the edge,
pull me to safety,
and they’ll squeeze me so tight
that all my pieces fit back together.
i’m standing on the edge of a cliff.
no one ever comes.
no wind ever blows.

you were the song
she was born to sing,
and all your lyrics,
and your steady beat,
played in her heart
on repeat,
until,
one day,
to her surprise,
your song began to fade away.
and even though it no longer plays,
she still sings it
everyday,
hoping that,
someway, somehow,
it will bring you back,
and you would start to sing to her
those same words right back.
and though her heart still wonders if you can hear it,
her head knows that you can’t.

roses are red,
but it is i that is blue,
since i can’t seem to figure out
how to live without you.