We sit out on the sand,
The fog covers the sky,
And blankets the world,
Like a shield.
The waves nip at our feet,
The water's cold
But I'm warm because you hold my hand,
And I don't think you even realize.
We lay back on the damp sand,
And you brush back my hair,
And leave your fingers there
For a second too long
And I think I've gotten too used to this.
I follow you down the dark, dank stairway,
Not taking a glance back the way we came.
The footsteps I take are whispers;
No one can hear them but me.
But you still listen to my heartbeat
It's strewn on the floor
again, because I was too lazy
to throw it in the hamper
and instead it's on the carpet floor.
And it's there next time
I'm crying on the floor;
We run back to your house,
The lights are still on,
And they cover your freckled face,
Like it's the sun.
The grass brushes our feet,
And the wind catches in your hair,
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