Does it make you uncomfortable
to think about
what's inside of you?
All packed together,
sealed,
no extra space.
So where am I supposed to keep
all of this emotion?
I learned from my dad
how to keep my feelings
in a shoebox
under my bed
I know
that I need a better place for these
and I know
I don't have any room for them in my heart.
I can tell by
the way they rise up in my throat
every time I see you smile
when you think I'm not looking.

I'm not used to love like this.
Maybe you are,
but I don't think about that.
Actually
I think about it all the time,
it may as well be background noise,
little soundtracks
all laid over each other,
all playing in my head at the same time.
They love to sing
little songs of my unimportance,
of my inadequacy,
and I spend a lot of time shushing them.
I don't ask god
for much
mostly because
I don't think I deserve it.
I ask him
to let me keep you.
I beg him,
this is all I've ever wanted,
I say,
if you give me one thing
in my lifetime,
please make it this.
I'm holding this love
with both hands like it's glass,
like I've never held anything
more precious in my life.

"It's crazy to me that I have all of this inside of me... and to you it's just words"