My fingers trace the softest of sensations, gentle fogs tinted in poison ivy
I can't help but think of the times you bring  me back,
I was misconstrued but the smell of your clothing always wakes me up again

I called it choking on the sweetest of intoxications,
You call it breathing, living, and I cannot agree more with that
The walls twist with an agony we turned away from,
Smothered in admiration, bruised in the spin of need

Nature caressed my skin and told me that I bleed black,
Disbelief was obscured until you brought me back,
You always have a way of doing that, carving your own path
It's amazing that you let me walk down it with you

Your skin is like metal washed in rain, but always oh so tender
The highest tower couldn't keep the struggle away from you
I always try my best to be the shield to keep you from the cold
Your heart beats like a drum, a double manned marching band that I can hold within my fingers