i hear her coming before her shadow steps over the door
she smells like silence like rain dragging its *****
fingers down my windows in the dark like waking up
next to your own dead body like watching your
fingers fade when you hold on so tight so tight
you don't notice you've been holding your breath
two months long she comes and she goes; the things
i would do for a lock on this door, the people i will
fall for in the corridors, bleeding fingers leave
graffiti down the staircase it's raining inside, and
she slips in anyway my skin is her resting place i know
it when the quiet is drowning me and my thoughts i know it
when she swallows my pulse i know it when she drags me
down
my gentle little anchor
take me where you will
you know i'll come up for air
when i don't need it anymore