there are things i repress, but here i confess
i'm scared you'll die and i won't know
i'll eventually ask about you, unprepared
i'll hear the news, you weren't spared
i lie impared, i declare, i'll always love our affair
playing with your hair, your stare
there goes a tear, i fear there are things i'm not aware
and things you hid, i feel like you held the lid tight
here i write, i fright, that you might…
i can't say it outright, but i feel like you're aware
of these things in my head, ‘cause as we laid in bed
as i secretly dread, all these things floating
because you didn't want to be holding
this weight over my head
and i feel like i'm coating, but i don't want to be probing
or cloaking, but you left me soaking, here i am eroding
coping and hoping i won't hear this news
about my muse