whenever i'm in silence, i think of your voice.
i wonder what it's like to be your bedsheets,
or what it would really be like to understand the jargon in your head.
i want to kiss you sometimes,
then others i really do want concrete between your hands and my skin.
i can't think straight all the time so i wonder if it benefits me at all to explain what it means that i don't want or expect anything from you,
but if we were to accidentally fall in love,
i wouldn't say no.

i want to really understand what you mean when you say stay to me.
i keep thinking about stay and maybe i'm choked up on the past because people always say it.
they never really mean it, you know.
your smile, genuine or not, tears me in two.
i wish every face on the planet had your smile
and i am ******* afraid of you smiling at other girls.
i'm terrified of your bare skin and goodbyes.
i hate farewells and see you laters.
i knew the first time i saw you smile at me from across the room that this would happen.

i sometimes want to hear you say you want..
not so much me,
maybe me,
but my company.
what is this anyway?
i want to know what you are thinking about when i look up and you are looking right at me.
stay.
with your chest and skin and lips and everything i hate but crave and might like about you without saying so.
stay.
sit down and explain to me why it is that i care anyway.
i have harbored some of these thoughts since the night you first said hello to me.
i wanna know if any of this sounds familiar-

and here i am back to wondering what is going on and why you're doing this to me.
the hair on my neck stands on end when i think about your touch.
i cloud my feelings for you and anything else,
so you'll never really know if i hit rock bottom or not over the fact that i know we will never kiss again.
i don't know if these butterflies are waiting for me to jump or sit down,
but they speak up when my phone lights up and it's you.

i'm sorry i have to get over the fact that once upon a time,
i wanted to save somebody
and you weren't going to let it be you.
i do sometimes think your hands might break me,
and maybe i want that.
so stay.
say to me again stay.
i am sorry my words often wear brass knuckles.
your smile shoots to **** and if it ever hits,
know i still want to stay.