precarious.

if I must be honest
I'm scared of turning it on because I won't be able to shut it off
my eyesheartmind
fear, real to the touch, but like words on a page
dysfunction breeds the most irregular of receptions

and if I can hear you breathe, I can see you smile tonight
and that's quite alright
we're in the lobby just waiting for a room
we're planting seeds just waiting for a storm
we speak our true language alone and all in good fun

and those who tear up maps will be likely to stay lost
even though we scatter bread crumbs on the trail for them

this padlock is metallic and cold
all I ask for is just the littlest bit of a sunrise so I can warm my hands for you

please be a rapture
grace defined
you're in bed and you're just waiting for the light
and we all still believe in fairy tales, even a little.