I want to make you fit
In my poems
With perfect rhymes
Short and sweet
But there's nothing poetic about
Haunted eyes
That pierce the soul
Cold and calculating
I could tell
They had seen things
Not meant to be seen
I know I was there
I remember it all too well
So tell me about your past
And I'll tell you about my scars
We'll tell each-other like the future is ours
And make poetry out of silence
Atmospheres that can't be explained
A comfortable presence
That does not need to be over-complicated with words