“turn it up,” your friend said
that day in my car,
and you told him that
i don’t ever play my music loud,
like i was some sort of killjoy,
the rain on everyone’s parade;
like you were me and you knew why
i did the things that i did.

truth was,
i was so in love with you
that i wanted to hear every word,
every single breath that
came out of your mouth
without anything drowning you out;
i wanted the air to be filled with
beautiful conversation,
not with meaningless noise;
but you’d rather have listened to
someone else’s voice
than to the sound of mine.

i met a boy
who recently took me out,
and i could see the volume in his
dashboard turned all the way down,
and we talked and talked
without the need to fill the silence;
and now i know that i need someone
who will want to soak up my words
like they are sustenance,
who will sing along not to the radio
but to the notes and tones
in my voice.

someone who is
the complete opposite of you
in every aspect.