sometimes I can't say what's in my head 

but all I know now 

is that your very words are like music to my pitiful ears 

and I can almost feel my heart beating when I'm with you.

almost.

I see your words when you speak, they float up, into the atmosphere, eventually.

that's why I always close the door, so no one else can hear.

they're mine. 

I'd keep them in a jar like fireflies, but I wouldn't poke holes in the lid.

I don't want you to breathe without me. you're mine.