I’m standing on this cliff. This very moment I’m standing on the edge, loose stones under these shoes. I knew I shouldn’t have worn them but I thought it best to have my feet covered with truth… so much for that. because for all the truth I wear, my lips shell out lies. Not to you. Never to you. Only to me. Me who says, “I’m not a romantic” Me who refuses to admit that there’s something to admit… to you. Me who wants to say, “listen…. I think…. I know…. I know that this is weird but… I…” But I don’t – lest I scare you off. Me who used strategy and lex ish principals, trying to be smooth as, calm as, wise as but the dim light in my head gets dimmer. How do I jump from the edge without causing you to scream? How do I say these words without making your mouth dry? How can I say, he is nothing but a shadow on the wall but I am… more? How do I tell you, I have felt what you are and I know what it is and for that… you are now my craving – without the calories and the guilt that comes from...