I don’t want to love anybody. But you make it hard.
I’m always
Obstinate,
Walls so tall i hardly remember what’s underneath
But little by little, I’m cracking apart
If I could tell you what I want to say
When i cut my words off at the tongue

It would sound like

I don’t want to write love poems anymore. But you make it hard.
My fingers itch to find the words my mouth cannot;
Oh!
if I could tell you the things I think
When that crooked smile turns me into Sunlight

It would sound like

I don’t want to feel anything. But you make it hard.
Even on my emptiest days I can’t help

That painful trembling in my chest
That anticipates your touch,
And oh, if you knew the golden, honeyed heat
That spreads through me each time we meet

It would sound like
A little prayer
A little wish
For you to love me too.