I’ll tell my mom about the love that you want.

I’ll tell her you’re wrong, but in my heart, I agree.
I act like I'm blind but tear down anything to see.

Your affections—they are my drug, and I am a closeted addict.

Now, I admit to the desires your flirtations imply.
I confess it in my manifesto that I will soon deny.

I’ll persuade even myself that you are nothing.

The tension in my mind frays the walls of my secret.
The weight of the burden makes it hard for me to keep it.

To confide in you and love your precious soul.

I privately proclaim my feelings as I whisper my love onto this page.
My desperate silence begs me to break out—to rage and to rage.