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untitled #2

i carry a piece of you on the tip of my tongue
it spills out sometimes
and fills strangers ears
creeping up on them like an echo
the repetition keeps me sane
in constant avoidance of the fear
that you will eventually disappear
if you cease to exist 
in my nostalgic imagination
and sometimes i'll swallow
this tiny piece of you
it'll slowly flow like honey
through my veins to keep me warm
as i lay here touch-starved
in silence, involuntary silence
a mess of my own making
loud echos turn to whispers
as i'm hanging by a thread
my memory works overtime
to remember what you've said
sometimes i wish you were softer
so i have no time to overthink
maybe it's me who needs to harden
and stop seeing things in pink
and red and endless tints
my emotions get the best of me
on occasion, i won't deny
but with everything left so incomplete
i look for answers in the sky
so for now i'll keep my piece of you
tightly on my tongue
until i finally find out the things
that until now have stayed unsung

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