Indoors Again

Holding your hand from afar like it matters, you, or anyone but me walking your quaint little village after dragging me out of bed for your morning coffee, I had to get out of the crowd sweat on the neck should have left before the inevitable plea not much time to ponder on my decisions though grateful to be free Answers come in the silence battling against one's stance what you had to put up... my cynical synthesis I don't belong out there forever wanting to leave bringing the nice day together crashing to its knees experience will hold me up, I'll tidy the apartment prepare evening's meal knowing the cold shoulder upon arrival will take some doing How many lives I have left? Remember when you were caught in the rain and I came running, the little things. I tried to block every one out but you'd just responded with "stop looking at me". head down looking at the feet, tired of seeing passing eyes, what is it they see? In contact along the way, where are you now? "Clothes store", I'll light the halls, the messages are blunt, straight to the point What is it about out there? I have music within, a gentle touch Can't deny the heat, the beauty of others, we could take a walk when they're all asleep? no response. To be a part of it then, is it just to bear witness? If it's the air I know a quiet place we can go? "What a bore". Tonight's proving to be difficult. resulting in the words, "We are moving to the big city". So we sleep, stroking your arm as you dream staring at the ceiling, we are so different it's affecting the balance, hard to admit is it so selfish to ask just continue to lay beside me