An Empty Stage (NWH)

He’s a dream in every song, book, or poem I know,
a hidden whisper between the lines.
As much as I hate him,
I love him two times.

He’s the thread holding together
the pieces of my broken heart
Shattered as I am,
I'm drunk on his sound.

He’s not mine
but my world
the thought of him comforts me and terrifies me

at the same time.

He’s on all my walls and all my playlists,
and if I admit how much he means to me,
it would frighten me
as much as him.

Oxygen is poison.
with every fragile breath
his voice keeps me alive
just a little longer.

Behind every hidden tear and forced smile
is the thought of him.

Life is a stage and when he puts down the microphone
for the last time

it will be just as empty.