You know what songs are in my head, 

For they are in your head too, 

You pluck them from my heart, and I yours, 

Maybe different words, different voices, 

But the same songs. 

And yet you remain outwardly like stone, 

Put on a show, do what’s expected, 

Keep an unnecessary loss, a hole that will not heal. 

Don’t give them to anyone else, 

For they do not deserve them.

They are not for them. 

They do not sing them. 

You know who you sing them for,

The only one who sings them for you,

And they move you inwardly, 

The grief, the loss, the mistake, 

But toward no happiness, no love without,

For you do not let them break your walls, 

Kept trapped in echo, your real heart smothered. 

They are your need for embrace, for admission,

And they tell you that you are wrong, to return to me. 

Yet you let convention keep your heart silent. 

The melodies did not come from nowhere. 

They are mine too, always were, 

But you let those who do not share them drown your music.