Before he could feel

Before he could feel himself again,

Before he could really feel,

His eyes drifted to the sky

And he sunk in fear of the clouds.

How small the trees are.

How small the known and living life.

I’ll be sick before I can look into his eyes.

The urgency of his eyes

And I long for the clouds

That shook his very animal being.

He drives his car on busy, twisting roads.

He knows which way to go

And cannot be lost.

He knows which way to look now

So that he’ll never feel lost.

She cries on her own

She cries on her own.

Whenever she’s been sad she’s been alone.

In her room, in her home,

She’s always cried on her own.

But now she cries in the toilet

Because her bed is not her own.

It’s my bed too and it’s also my home.

She doesn’t care if she loves me,

She doesn’t even know.

But I let her cry in the toilet

Because I know she cries on her own.