sometimes i run out of things to say
and that scares me. scares me a lot
because you are there, when i
am silent. and i don't know
if you understand what that means
how much i trust you. and
believe me, i know how this is
going to sound, but
i spend too much time laughing
for the sake of other people,
smiling and reassuring them of
their own sanity. and not enough
holding myself to the earth.
and there are days when i think i will
simply float away, a yellow balloon
rising and rising and rising until
i find myself too close to the sun
but i want to avoid that. i don't want to
die, not anymore. so i
tease and laugh and play it all off
and i really am happy, when i
am surrounded by other people. beautiful.
but at night i am quiet, filled to the brim
with heartbreak, loneliness. words.
they beat inside me, spill from me
outside of my control. syllables, verses.
so many of them. into my journal,
and never aloud.
they are the helium that will
take me far away, unless i can
find a way to tame them.
only around you do i feel safe. my anchor.
you wrap an arm around my waist,
watch me as i read about new york at night.
the silence is comforting, different,
not the clamor i hear in my thoughts when i
am alone, and lonely.
terrifying. that i can be so empty
when you are right there beside me.
i drown myself in someone else's words,
for once, and you don't even
realize that i am grateful. i am grateful.
funny. to some people,
silence is sadness. and once that was
what it was for me.
but now, in the midst of you,
silence has become