I am sweet -nothings whispered in your ear and a song

for you to sing.

I wonder if you hear the broken note in my voice.

I hear lullabies sung to blameless children

but the jagged edges that my throat produces

could never truly recreate those soft melodies.

I see autumn's last crowning glory tumble to

the ground, ushering in a cold December and

new harsh winds and words to contend with.

I want my proclaimed fears announced in poem

and song to reach your ears, soothing you into

the deepest sleep you've never dreamt of.

I am sweet-nothings whispered in your ear and a song

for you to sing.

I pretend that what I say does not slip in and out

of your mind, that you hold these murmurs in your heart instead.

I feel abandoned and euphoric at turns, crooked emotional

path leading nowhere.

I touch the petals of the withered yellow roses on the

kitchen counter, and you crisscross my thoughts.

I worry that you're lost to me, as you have been from the start.

I cry because I can no longer fight alone, steady sword shaking

with the weight of burdens I never should have offered to shoulder.

I am sweet-nothings whispered in your ear and a song

for you to sing.

I understand that this imagined moment may never be real to you.

I say, "I'm falling," knowing that you won't come running

the way I would if you were knocked off balance.

I dream of a happiness that lasts and settles gently over all my days and yours'

like new fallen snow, erasing every blemish from the earth.

I try to believe in your truths and stolen stanzas, even though

I harbor doubts.

I hope my dreams don't float away on music notes I could not play,

and that you believe me when I speak.

I am sweet-nothings whispered in your ear and a song

for you to sing.