it's getting windy, it's getting cold
          i wait and wait for stories to unfold

                   but there was no such thing to be told
     just my chilled hands waiting for you to hold

i write about love
yet i know nothing of it
i dream about love
yet i know i will never get it
not the kind of love
your parents give you
nor the kind of love
your friends show you
i crave that kind of perfect love
that will make your heart feel infinite
that the warm feelings
that you cannot possibly put into words
would feel like it would
never end
that kind of perfect love
that would make your skin
feel like electricity
every time you touch
you feel a shoc-
no
that kind of love that
would make you feel
like a thunderstorm
bright and painful
yet a beautiful kind of pain
that you would willingly so
stand in the middle of a rain
i crave that kind of perfect love
that whenever you feel like
falling apart
you know someone will be there
waiting for you
to fall into their arms
and never let go
but who am i to talk about
love
when i can only
write, dream, and crave
that perfect love
i know nothing of

"I don't hear anything"
"I don't feel anything"
These words I keep repeating
as I hear and feel everything
at the same time, nothing.
I hear nothing
yet the pain is so loud.
I feel so numb and empty
yet there is a sharp pain in my chest.
These words, I keep repeating to myself.
"I'm okay."