you sink through me and shiver,
falling softly into my hands from
where you wander outside.
this moment is lonlier than silence
pacing_pacing,
not ready to move in time;
and i cannot think
other than wanting to speak my insides to death
to you and flood your fears
with everything you never wanted to face yet.
something drifts through the windowpane,
childlike,
and melts on the glass,
dripping down and staining the spot
where i always used to be empty.
now i'm damp with tomorrows dyed in red
waiting for something we're unsure of holding,
and i'll be ready to put to rest
despite the conservative council you pour in.

sleep soundly through this trap,
i'll wake you sometime in the morning.