She was a silent fighter with a demon in her lung that stole her breaths from her before they passed her tongue. He was a silent fighter who was always taught to share so he held his breath when he was with her so she could have his air.
To say "I want you" would sound far too eager. To say "I need you" would sound far too desperate. To say "I love you" would sound far too hasty. So I remain silent, hoping not to sound too indifferent.
And it hurts that I can't be what everyone else wants or what anyone needs. And it hurts that I can't be what I want or what I need. Because I'm not enough and won't be enough. And I'll never be close to enough and I'm just so damn tired