Melancholy Hearts

Bittersweet. What ever the kids are calling it these days.
Phone calls that scream. Texts that weep. Stares that break hearts.
Eyes that sing joy. That burning that follows your every touch.
I'm trying to figure out what it is about you that makes me want to be with you all the time.
Maybe its your touch. Maybe its your looks. Maybe its the fact that I'm myself when I'm with you.
And I'm trying to figure out why everyone is so against us. Especially when they brought this idea to us.
Maybe they are mad. Maybe they are jealous. Maybe it will take time.
I just wish I knew what I could do for them to see us like I do.
When I'm with you, everything seems perfect.
When you're gone, the real world comes alive crushing us beneath it.
Trying to suck all the water from our bodies through our tears.
Tearing the ones closest to our hearts to try and suffocate us.
Telling us to fear the margins.
Begging us to play safe. Stay alive. Don't risk the bruises.
Fear? Is weakness.