There's this song I always listen to that no matter what the circumstances never fail to make me think of you. It has become a second nature, I think, for my mind to conjure you within its convolutions while my heart tries not to ache at the delusion, the images painted by the words sung into my ear as I close my eyes and see you here, here beneath the shutter of my eyelids. You turn my heartbeats into a rapid continuous explosion of dying stars. I spend hours staring at the ceiling trying to make sense of why everything seems to be a memory of you, I try to find clues in the pages filled with poetry about you, and all I end up realizing is that you are the color of dappled sunlight against verdant spring grass. And the long winding roads snaking across the city lights I only want to get lost in you.

There's this song I've just begun to get addicted to, and no matter how many times I listen to it the only thing it keeps telling me is you, or maybe that is all I can hear, with my ears deaf to everything else that should make more sense than your name being an endless chant that never fails to be a vise on my throat, a shackle on my wrist, and I know, I know that if I turned away from you I would always look back to see if you show any inclination of stopping me. Hope, dreadful hope, that I somehow matter to this boy who seems to see everyone as the same, or maybe he has simply listened to the same song too many times and he's tired of everything, I wish I could touch him. I wish I could be the lines on his palm tracing past stories in the dried-up riverbed of his veins. Or to be the candlelight in his eyes, love, I don't need a wicker, you're all I need to keep burning.

There's this song I once heard from somewhere, it doesn't have words in it but it spoke of you more than I ever do, as if the blanks where the lyrics should be were lines connecting the pinpoints of lights visible in your laughter, as if the musical instruments were screaming what I never could, that whether you realize it or not, right now I feel like I can love you forever. I am running out of words, perhaps somewhere, miles away from me you're singing yourself to sleep, and my heart begs me silent so I can listen to the tune only I can hear, only I can know that you are the note that spurs the crescendo of an angel's praying song, that even god will listen to the heaven of your voice.

There's this song I just heard today, there's something about it that makes me sad. But then again every good song always sounds melancholy to me, as if there's a filter in my ears that permits only the tears to seep through, locks all the joy out of my body, and I can't really blame it, because happiness is a poison to the bitter sea churning in the pit of my stomach. It will **** me to be happy, and you're the blade that slides neatly through skin, flesh, and bone, cleaves through soft sinew as if it's nothing more than paper to be torn, shredded, ripped open like a smiling wound. You would **** me if you could, and it's all I can do to gasp through the choking sensation of your name lodged deep in my throat, to let my chest be filled with echoing thunderclaps.

So sing, whisper, speak to me, let my name spill from your lips like a waterfall tumbling over the edge of a cliff, let it crash down to the ocean of my heart, let the wave tear itself apart so  I can breathe, breathe, love, let me fill you with my breath, let me live, I don't have to leave, though your laughter consists of ricocheting shrapnel from the explosion of your touch, your smile is the deadly curve of a bowstring drawn tight nocked with cupid's poisonous arrow, your eyes are two storm clouds spitting lightning and reverberating with thunder, you are death. The beginning and ending of a lifelong love story.