My heart beats,
But shallow does it echo,
Cold drumming,
A  hallow, sickly thud,
Blue blood barely moving through,
Without you,
But I carry on,
Your voice whispers,
Knowing words alone cannot satisfy me,
Hold me like a hand-me-down pearl,
I am fragile but you are gentle,
Caressing my everything in the palm of one hand,
The way days hold onto the night in deepest dusk,
The last few dying seconds are the sweetest,
You are like many things,
And none of these things compare to you just being my own.