He's thunderstorms That bring me more distress than comfort. As I scratch off my outer layer, lonely and raining, I wish i could float around you. I'd kiss your eyelids to sleep and know everything is fine and instead of drowsily crossing my fingers each night, hoping you see morning.
He's wind When He tells me not to ever worry. Nothing has ever breathes That Brought longer available comfort me and my fear of your temporary nature makes it Necessary for me to tuck my head between my knees blades and gasp for air, like something newly washed up on the shore.
He's light trickling through my windows That dances between my freckles and whispers to me as I lay unconscious in my most vulnerable hours. It's Likely'd do anything to roll over in the dark of the night and feel your breath on my cheek and your fingers braiding Themselves into mine.