Tardy are the tired eyes
That could be in their bed
Lonely is the pillowcase
The should support my head
Frantic are the fingers tips
Across the tortured keys
With coffee by the bucket-load
And a keyboard on my knees

**

One day I lost my shoes,
so I always walked barefoot.
I was  terrified
to step on something sharp,
so I always had my eyes
locked on the *****, ugly ground,
always looking down.

One day I became lost
in my thoughts
and stepped on a rock.
A pang shot through my being
and looked up.
And I found the sky.

The wind blows its cold
Out in this world what can heat my soul
Many don't know
Frost bite a broken toe
Product of walking bare foot in the snow
Like a leopard but I need a coat
On my lows don't need highs no coke
Does a frozen river still flow
Does a broken branch still grow
Its real in the cold
Need fire, need it to burn slow like coal
Where is the fire in the cold

One day I'd like to trace the finery
Of your subconscious, in that dim light
When morning is half waving and prepared.
It'd be written on your face, your eyes
More like the weather than windows, like they say.
Cloudy with the potential for morning yawn showers
But, of course, always sunny, Even at this hour.
I'd follow your dreams, Id trace the markings of those maps
Made by pillow case creases, your cheekbone cartography.
I'd find the X and stamp it with a smile.