Turn this stupid fat rat yellow

I want to tell you. But then, what would be the point? I stare at the phone, these untold words tickling me. I wait. For tomarrow. But if today were tomarrow, would i still want to tell? Would i still wish for you? Or would i change my mind. Streaming thoughts, useless against you. This wall so carefully built is crumbling. But then i have to wonder. Was it ever there at all? I want to tell you, but i know it is too late. Air heavy with untold truths, broken as the words fall from my mouth out to you. Waiting to be heard, finally. To be taken in by you. You understand. Is that enough? i dont know. But i wish it were.