Tell me what your worst fears are. I bet they look a lot like mine. Tell me what you think about when you can’t fall asleep at night. Tell me that you’re struggling. Tell me that you’re scared. No, Tell me that you’re terrified of life. Tell me that it’s difficult to not think of death sometimes.
If your arms are just felt then when you hold me I’ll feel held. We’ll sink in these notes. It never felt like this. Tell me we belong here. If your arms become smoke then I’ll have nothing left to hold. We’ll dissipate with these notes. It shouldn’t feel like this if everyone belongs here.