I've lost my voice, misplaced or hidden by me.
Quarantined and deemed unclean, I'd rather kick this chair and choke.
This broken record playing, static pitch inside my head
Most tragic note I've ever formed.

You mourn that which I consider normal.
I swore refusal of logic resolve.
You called my bluff, and my throat choked up.

Don't call
This love.

I know that which you see as sacred.
We grow together with no need for words.
Your mind grabs me, leaves me gasping.

Don't call
This love.

My voice returns in vibrant resolve.
Echoes freely, hopelessness swiftly absolved.
Let's just enjoy this.

Don't call
This love.
Let's just
Enjoy this.
Don't call
This love.