I spend my nights breaking rules I never quite claimed as applicable to me, and I sweat out my lone bike ride thoughts in fear that all these small infractions will one day in sum cost me the thing that matters most to my foolish heart.
If I knew anything, I would–
If I could read the tables of your heart I–
I want you I want–
Nothing that I could ever say would speak the volumes of this silence. And yet the urge to speak overwhelms me, and so I turn it toward any other route that will allow it. I pour out my molten words on any hand held out, because to let this sea rush across you would be to carry you away from me forever. A risk I cannot take.