I still remember his hands on me
Touching me everywhere
Everywhere he shouldn't
I still live under the same roof as him
Acting like it never happened
Acting like a loving family
But still I feel his hands on me
I told my mom
She knew everything
Yet nothing ever happened
Yet I sleep crying cuz I feel his hands on me

perhaps life is the
spouse and rest is the lover —
my head is our bed

The approach is fast,
The trickle slow.
Softly seeping down below.

A violent end.
A peace not past.
You, bending steel. Me, breaking glass.

What was dampened
Once, abruptly clears.
May fortune favour golden years.

A block of ice
Cannot endure.
At last, find footing firm and sure.

Now brilliant, shines
An endless sky.
Inspires distinction of truth from lie.

Elated! Joyful! Then dropped
A darkly veiled mask.
Ground is near, approaching fast.

Voices saying nothing.
Never stopping.
Maybe we’ll crash.
Maybe I’ll fly.

Music from nowhere
“I feel bad for her fiancée or whatever he is”
I know your face.
I’ve seen your insides.
Maybe I’ll fly.

Empty eyes.
Empty smile.
“Like no offence to her but she’s too shy”
Maybe we’ll crash.
Maybe I’ll fly.

Pounds to tons.
Routine to chaos.
Maybe we’ll die,
But maybe I’ll fly.

she said sleep seems so sweet.  so please sing me to sleep so i can rest my head on your heartbeat...