Silent screams, sleepless nights...
.... take both of those literally.
I scream but there is no sound- thank god
or all the neighbors would know
that living without you is my own
personal hell.
Yeah, it sounds like a bad RomCom,
but it's real... it's all real.
I scream... I SCREAM
because I can't take it anymore
And the fact that I'm drunk
plays no role...
except that I have the dumb courage
to write this down.

Tell me a story.
I want to know something incredible about you
and something boring about you, too.
Tell me about the time you broke your arm
impersonating a superhero.
Can I hear about the first time you fell in love?
Does that story have a happy ending?
You could tell me what you thought about
as you fell asleep last night.
I'll listen to what you thought
As you lay awake the night before.
Hell, I'd listen to you tell me
How you tie your shoes.
I don't care what we're talking about.
I just want to hear your voice.

I don't know when you became so important.
I just woke up one morning and knew:
There'd never be another day
I didn't think of you.

They think I am naive.
They think this is just 'young love',
but I know this love is not for children.
This is the kind of love that, if threatened,
could bring on Shakespearean vengeance.
This is the kind that drives men and women mad.
The kind of love that, if lost,
is deadly.
Yes, we are young. But we did not choose this.
We were drawn in against our will,
forced to protect this flame
that both warms our once cold hearts
and threatens to burn us alive.

We all have our favorites.
They're a quick answer when we need a smile
or a deep breath.
A backup for our imaginations when life is too hard.
I can retreat into images
Of sunlight filtering through maple leaves
-my favorite shade of my favorite color-
or the rush of a heavy rain
-my favorite sound-
or a lawn covered in autumn leaves
-my favorite smell-
and suddenly the thoughts my mind kicked up
have settled like the autumn leaves
when the October breeze dies down.

I'm tired of hearing my own thoughts
Tired of listening to anyone's voice but yours
Tired of thinking of anything else
Tired of myself.