I'm gonna find my baby before that sun goes down.

I'm writing you a song.
With any luck you'll hear it.
Don't know when I'll hear it.
Is it even really a song?

--A poem if you will
Perhaps? No, a ramble...
Or Maybe a train of thought
...Derailed. Bumbling-

-Word Salad.

Tastes better with dressing.
Would you even listen?
Do you enjoy this sort of thing?
It's not even really worth addressing.

You could sing backups
Appreciate the effort
Close yours eyes and bask
or sit back and laugh.

Nothing would surprise me.
Just as nothing surprises you
Not even a pleasant surprise
For that I'll get a smirk

I'll sing to you for a while
I stare down at the page
I should've tried to edit
But I wanted this to be raw.

I wanted this to be true.
I blush wildly press onward
My voice is quivering from nerves
This took hours upon HOURS.
Yet you just smirk and thank me.

I'd rather you just shut me up
Leave the room before I crack
Like the plaster on my walls
As plain as your reaction, my dear.

Feel something God damn you.
I'd rather be burned by your eyes
Than cooled by your vibe.

Don't make me hurt you.
You'll just hurt me.
But I can handle it.

I'd like to see you try.