What's this feeling called
When your gut is sitting in your throat
And something feels like it's horribly wrong
As if you're about to get in trouble
Or you know you're about to be dumped
But everything is fine
And nothing falls apart

What causes this terror in my bones
That has no reason for being there
But sits whispering,
"You shouldn't be so sure"

I spoke in novels
And you responded with punctuation

It's the moment alone
When the tears come down
That we have to make a choice
Do we convince ourselves that we have no one
Or do we fall apart and trust there will be someone there to catch the pieces?

He said to me,

"The reason you find yourself alone so much is because you are truth, where people want to turn a blind eye.
You're a constant reminder of the things that they're terrified to say and so instead of loving you,
They run away and say nothing at all."