Sometimes I feel
that I can only hear you
when you don't speak.
When you're sound waves stop hitting my ear drums,
and I can finally think.

Sometimes I feel I get whisked away
on a note that you thought you didn't say,
and I can't help but lose a piece of myself.
And I feel myself aging
faster than I should be,
because all the old and dusty feelings
get the better of me.

Sometimes I need to say "I love you"
even when you're not too fond of me
at the moment
and you sort of wish I'd just choke on it.
And sometimes I need to tell you that
I don't forgive you for half the things I should.
"Memory"
is what could drive me
insane.

And sometimes I wish I could
wash away half the things I know.
Just run the soapy water
through my brain, and wash away
everything that gnaws on my bones.
Scientifically speaking,
you could call me a manic lunatic.
Unstable; ready to collapse.

But sometimes I realize...