Shook

I need all of your dark clouds
and the smell of rain.

My brain is talking far too loud;

she's trying to explain.

I need the falling of the leaves

and your long-sleeved shirt.

Perhaps I really am naive

and so it always hurts.

I think you're in the wind now.

You whispered out my name.

You kissed me quick atop my brow

so that I would remain

the one who's always waiting here,

so wishful and so willing.

Right and wrong are so unclear;

it's just my guts I'm spilling.

You are the pages of my book.

I am the stars above you.

When the ground beneath me shook,

I knew that you felt it too.

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"In my dreams I can hear a voice, a call, a withering echo. And it sings, it sings all-knowing words, but ones I can't understand." Radical Face From The Mouth Of An Injured Head

"You can quake at the thought of it. Shakes you up quite a bit. And all you do is think and thinking gets you nowhere." Balance and Composure Quake