Well the truth be a lion stone cold messiah

Bits and Blurbs (some sort of slightly corny prose).

We sat around a table. Asked what I love you means-- a promise, a momentary release of expressed emotion, another form of I miss you. I said for now, it means I'm here for you. But it is more. The most important sentiment about those three words, those eight letters, is the you. It can be said to anyone, truly. It's not that hard to love in any form, yet we stress that middle part of the phrase with different tones, inflections, a weight because it contains one extra letter.
But when said, it is directed to you. It is one of the fastest phrases to come out of my mouth, and yet I shy away when that middle word is supposed to contain some sort of significance. And definitions are ever-changing, just as the you is always someone different (because we are changing constantly). When said too much, we move away from the core of it. When said too little, we shy away from giving the phrase life, fullness. You are the one that inspires the five letters before I arrive to the three that represent you namelessly. We can add on names for specifics, but you already know your own name.
I carry the weight of a phrase and support you when it lands on your shoulders.

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And I can't tell how much I miss faces. How we all were. But the past cannot come back because it has become an illusion, a ghost to make us remember. And it has been so quiet. I hear creaking footsteps and somehow wish they came from other feet hitting the floor. Maybe the ants would listen as I listen now.

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[Water in Hell- Broken Social Scene]