I think tonight I'll lay under my bed, on the floor,
I'll curl up in my fluffy blanket, and count the bumps in my box spring,
And maybe I'll learn something more,
Something better or worse or just something,

A lesson taught by answers only,
Lost without their questioning,
And maybe I won't feel so lonely,
Listening to the silence, just listening,

Unbroken by the beauty of it, it carries on so seemlessly,
Healed by the shaking vision, of the girl just before me,
And oh, can it be, I've let go of something within me,
And peace resumes in my resting body,

The steely coldness of night around us,
And the eerieness involved in that,
Astounding how I go to sleep without her fuss,
I can hold my feelings in the brim of my best hat,

The buttons within my white-pressed collar,
Art I drew without my hands,
Printed with my last wrinkled dollar,
To meet my own envious demands,

The apple in my hazel eye,
Gave it's seeds so it may grow anew,
As an orchard growing fat and high,
Set alight by you,

The color that pulses through my breath,
Is a bold and true and raging red,
And that's what scares me half to death,
Because I've left my anger sick and unfed,

So the floor will have to cool my skin,
As my dreams unfold in my first home,
To those lands I am merged within,
And the places where I need to roam.