Talk to me.

About you.

What are you dying to say?

To share?

With me.

Or with anyone.

Or everyone.

Nobody ever says what they're dying to say.

Then they die.

I won't be angry.

What secret are you holding onto?

I won't judge.

I just wanna get to know you.

A little better than I knew you yesterday.

There are things I’ll never know about you, of course.

I’ll never understand how your creative process works.

But don't die with your song still inside you.

We can be like two jazz musicians sharing sparks of genius.

I like to think that when people die they become those sparks in the middle of the night.

That nudge you awake and make you write down that lyric or melody.

That sentence or rhyme that inspires you.

That’s what happens when we die.

We become the lyrics to the next song.

Share your song with me.

A song without lies.

A song that doesn't hurt anyone.

Share.