I’m so scared I’m going to lose you.
Straight up, there’s so much of me that doesn’t want to lose you.
I’m choosing you every day, so losing you without a say
feels like hell.
You have a voice that speaks to my soul.
When you speak to me, all of me feels whole.
You have eyes that see through my masks.
When you see me, no part of me asks.
I want to be the same, wherever I go,
but there’s something always in the way of that being so.
If I go slow, like really slow,
I already know why there’s always versions of me that are faux.