I remember the first time you shouted at me. It was yesterday, but it seems forever.
"I hold you while you cry, listen to you fall asleep on the phone, and everything else I shouldn't do. Now you tell me what's going to happen," you cried.
I don't know what I want. I care about you so much, sometimes it feels I'm dying. During daytime there's a wall between you and the world, but I see to your core.
When I stare into your blue eyes I find I don't want to swim there after all: I want to drown.