Could I make you cry if I wrote the words of my soul onto the wall of a stall in the bathroom in the place we love to go?

Could I make you cry if I screamed these things at the top of my lungs into the air where everyone who knows you can hear?

Could I make you cry if we spent time in the dark, sitting close to one another, and I whispered my thoughts into your ear?

Could I make you cry if I took your hand and looked in your eyes and breathed everything that has happened, everything i’ve dreamt, everything I think about, everything I write, everything I know, everything I feel, everything I want to tell you to let you understand what it is inside of me that is dying to break free and fly to the sky and just leave me be in peace?

No?

Could I at least make myself cry from all of these things?

No.

I still love you though.

You know?

Why isn’t it enough?

Okay.

So It’s about who I am?

Too much of me?

Too much silence?

Too much change in who I am?

Okay but please remember

I still love you,
The Pained

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