it scares me to know that you keep things from me. that there are things you don't say. because if you can lie and say you're fine then how do i know you aren't lying when you say you love me? how can i trust that anything you say is real if you can't even say the things that are hurting you inside. whats worse is that you tell him. yes, i have done my own share of such things, but all of that is just physical, it doesn't mean anything. why can you not just talk to me? just, say what it is and i will listen. i may not understand but i will hear what you have to say.

but what you should really know is that i will always be honest with you. because when i start lying to you, i won't know what lies i've told myself

you should also know that i will always love you. even if we separate and bridges burn, you have made your mark and like it or not you will be in my heart forever.

or
if you do change (inside or out) no matter what i will love you. not your clothes or the things you do, but you. changing yourself can't change the way i feel right now.

and things aren't perfect, they probably never will be.
and i told myself i wouldn't do this.
i told myself that you needed to work things out on your own
but i keep telling myself that if i just shove things at you eventually you will understand that i care about you. that you'll forget whatever it is that you can't tell me and just see me and see that i love you but im starting to feel like you never will. if you can just stop making things your fault, stop making things big and bad and just let them be what they are.

Tears brim your eyes as you bite your lip.
Face scrunched in pain, you hold your pillow.
Rolled onto your side, you pray.

She hurt you.
She really did a number on you.

You grunt an ancient language that only heartache speaks.
You are starting to become fluent again.

We don’t speak her name, but she is etched into your memories.
We don’t speak her presence, but she is engraved into your being.

You pray harder, hoping that maybe it will put your pieces back together.
Your hands are clasped so tightly that your knuckles praise white.

She never cared for you,
She never loved you,
But who am I to know?

You’re alone again,
Sad.
You’re alone again,
Content.
You’re alone again,
Mad.

You don’t have to be alone anymore.
I want to be there for you,
I want to care for you.
I want to mend your aching heart,
When you said that no one ever has before.

I thought to myself,
Maybe it’s time to start.

folie à duex
means madness for two
and in a way, that’s what we are
two fools who share the same madness

folie à duex
i think i was the one who went mad first
the one who fell, the one who fell fast and hard
or maybe it was you, you were the one who pushed me

folie à duex
we were climbing a hill
i was there behind you, then you pushed me
yep, you were the one who went mad first

folie à deux
i fell
but you still caught me
even if you were the one who pushed me
maybe i’m wrong

folie à deux
whoever went mad first doesn’t matter
we are both fools
two fools
sharing the same madness

You say support for us is “collaborating with madness”
I must really be nothing to you
Someday I will wake you up
The alarm clock will not come with a snooze button
If you want to quiet me, you will have to throw the clock
Against the wall
Let it smash into a million pieces
But you will always hear a faint phantom ringing in your ears
It will grow louder
And louder
It will never truly be silenced.

You think I’m crazy
A queer little copycat
Let me let you in on a little secret
The world moves on, with or without you
I will move on, with or without you
I know that it is likely to be the latter
In a way, I almost want it to be
Black cannot become white without first having specks of grey
You are the deepest, darkest black of night
I am a myriad of colors

“Have I gone mad, Alice?
“I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers. But let me tell you a secret. All the best people are.”
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We’re all mad here.
Some of us just refuse to see
People hide behind their bibles
Yet speak of things that aren’t even written in them
Where does our God say, “Thou shalt not be transgender?”
You use the book as an excuse
As a shield for your bigotry
You may as well spit on the cover
Or light the pages ablaze with your disrespect.

is there any hint of reason
in this madness i've come to witness?
we tend to think there is
i tend to think the world is wrong
i've lost reason and i'm going mad
but you see nothing
in my madness you cannot witness.