sometimes it seems that i don't have the skills to recollect-

it's too much to breathe every breath for someone else. every breath should be for you.

that said, music is an extension of ourselves that allows us to feed into the depths of connection- the most euphoric moments paired with the song that gets us high; the most anguish-laced song paired to the saddest of romances.


as i laid in my bed falling asleep, i realized half-consciously that i was singing- only to find that the lyric i'd chimed in during was more significant to me than even i had realized. instead of worrying about the things that we say- "too overwhelming, too deep; careless, brazen"...instead of worrying about these things that i might say, i'm going to stop. i've realized that i have been singing them all along. and so many of these lyrics are mine for someone.
and they are yours for someone. we are bound by these words- someone else's words- and we express ourselves through someone ELSE'S expression of self.
the smarter part of us probably knows that the person that we are singing for hasn't heard us. hasn't realized that each lyric, though repossessed, has put words to a want- to an expression too complex to conjure words for, felt for Them; and i wonder why we keep singing.
we take those words, and we sing them again. we beg melodically for someone to hear them. to feel them. to love them.

why?

because while we sing and ask for our hearts to be caught through sound waves precisely developed to be touched and to move, Someone hears us.
this isn't hopeless, and i will keep singing to you. because... even though you aren't the one to feel my song, someone else will hear it and know this heart and how it has been written; how it reads.



connecting to lyrics and saying them/singing them/writing them lets us breathe-
and directly from our hearts.