I like this place
A secret where I can write all my hidden thoughts
I never have to speak my shameful burdens aloud
To those who know me best
Because I find comfort in knowing
That thousands of strangers
Are where these troubles rest

I am posed with the question
of what is worse
The hurt of being with you
Or the pain of being
Without you

I don't know if it's due to an unbelievable strength
Or just a irrefutable stubbornness that refuses to let me go
Maybe it's both

But try as hard as you might,
You will not be the reason I fall apart
You will not even have the privilege  of being mentioned when I tell my story

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