it’d been a while since i last heard you say it—

a name so often spoken, _memorized_.

**to the point it no longer means anything.**

****

how come my own name stirs me so?

was it the way your voice turned it into a song?

or the fact it was my name that echoed from it?

**knowing it will haunt me.**

that’s my problem with you:

it’s as if i’m not meant to be anywhere near you

—to _never_ truly meet,

**knowing i could never reach you.**

your presence alone bends the air.

making me cherish the room’s loudness,

**as you’ll only hear how my chest comes apart.**

****

it would be a lie to not want you

—because_ i do._

**a lie so painful that it spills from my pen.**

****

so i write this because you don’t want me,

**and that’s why i simply cannot want you.**

so, _please_, call out to me once more,

for i can’t get enough of my name on your lips.

oh, how my name has _never_ sounded this beautiful—

**as it was ****_you_**** who said it.**