How strange,
to hold so much in meβ
and to you,
itβs only words.
But I mean them.
Every syllable is heavy.
I donβt say I miss you
unless my chest aches with it.
I donβt say I love you
unless it keeps me awake.
When I speak,
my words arenβt just sounds to fill the air.
They are bone,
and they are breath,
they are everything I have to give.
When I speak,
I am handing you my heart in piecesβ
donβt tell me itβs only words.
πππππππππππ€ 