Things I Never Ever Said

Sometime when you're not so headachy or determined to ignore the sexual tension do you wanna make out maybe?

And I wonder about the weight of your heart How heavy it is the troubles you carry Along with the box of masks you need for all the occasions And it strikes me right now Next to you in the car driving from our old home to our new ones That I would do almost anything to see you happy I just have no idea where to begin And no idea if you'd let me in  And we don't have anything to talk about but the silence is heavy with everything we're not saying

Find the boys who write The boys who scribble in the margins, who collect words like rocks in their pockets, weighty and comfortable and safe if only to be swapped for another next week.  Find the boys who write lyrics to songs they would never sing, but speak louderthan anything they hear on the radio. Find the boys that write anyway. Filling up pages with poems that have only ever seen the secret lamp light. Find the boys who trap their feelings in a combination of letters and numbers, who by scratching them into paper free something in their souls.  Find the boys who read and are enriched by doing so, who tap notes into their mobile phones and breath heavy in bookstores.  Find the boys who appreciate a story, who understand the crafting of narrative and the creation of character. Find the boys who find themselves in books, who's identities are layered with the patina of the words they have read. Find the boys who value a good narrative over a good night. Find the boys that read not just with their heads but with their hearts.

You get it don't you? The way the world is weighty and fragile at the same time.