Maybe we could talk about dreams, goals, life, or causes you fight for, or how you sleep the frustrations away—but you're a cat.
All night it rained. Saturday morning came, but alarm goes off. Still, I dozed off.
My fingers wrapped around her thorns, I bleed, but she is dying in my grasp.
Charcoal forts of tall clouds on the horizon, a star awaits the day.
I count the lines on your palm, and I found nothing but me holding you.
If by chance a heart gives, a living soul be saved again.
He'll fill the void in your heart or the emptiness I gave, and he will be the hands you'll hold when you're away.