Curse this wall that keeps our lips apart.
Curse the space between our beating hearts.
Curse this lion that prowls the dark outside.
Curse this fear that keeps us pinned inside.
Curse these dreams that hypnotized my eyes.
All this cold reality ignores your bitter cries.
But let us still be grateful for the sun that dries our tears,
For the crack that lets your whispers reach my burning ears,
For the time we have together,
For the warmth that we can share,
For the healing balm of knowing
That someone out there cares.
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uh, things and uh, ya know, stuff and, ya know, other misspellins.
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