The word need is a scary one. For me too.
To hear, to know, to think, to say.
It’s one I’d never willingly force on you,
No matter how much I need you to stay.

But when it gets dark, and the storm comes in,
And the umbrella I hold is broken and torn,
I never know quite when the thunder begins
If I want to be near you, or alone to mourn.

On mourning days, all I can be is alone,
Even though these days are full of nothing but hate.
I need solace and silence, and somewhere to roam,
From the ri...