In Bed, In the Morning Into the Afternoon

I whispered to my sheets while you slept,
Grab hold of this one, hold on tight.
Gently wrap yourself around her ankles and wrists.
Keep her warm and comfortable.

And I pleaded with my pillows,
Let her sleep in peace, 
remind her of nothing outside my bedroom door.
Become an ocean of comfort 
that cradles her head into the afternoon.

I cut a deal with the birds outside my window
If you just keep singing through morning, 
after the sun has packed its bags for the day, 
into the evening, maybe we won't hear our alarm clocks. 

The sun owed me a favor from a few years back,
Stretch your rays a bit further this morn.
Thread yourself in between my shades but keep away from her face
As badly as I'd like to watch her open her eyes, we mustn't wake her.

If you were to wake up now I would pretend I was asleep the entire time.
I would calculate my breathing to ensure we share the same breath,
and I would tighten my grip around your waist,
just barely but enough so you know where you belong.

Without Ever Opening My Eyes

In the morning I wake and I'm shivering
   The wind trapped between my house and the bay window makes a familiar sound  
It wakes me but the shivering keeps me awake
I listen to the birds outside and try to count how many there are
   just by listening to the chorus they were all singing
I never really knew if what they say about birds was true
  about how they can only hear the chirping of their own kind
Sometimes that just seems so sad to me
the way they all sung, like a choir together without ever knowing it

Listening closer still I can hear the sound of a chainsaw
   and it cuts right through me
Bringing my sunrise chorus to an abrupt end and replacing it with
the teeth of the chain as it rounds the blade and shreds through wood and bark
  and the sound of mother nature as she weeps for her early morning miracles
I feel bad for her and try to apologize for everything
   but that task is a daunting one and I am sleepy still

There's the hum of my ceiling fan that buzzes above me
   It gives my bedroom life, and acts as a net, wrangling all the sounds together
Like that faint hiss you can only get when a needle hits vinyl
   that warms it all up and holds you tight
The fan blades spin and provide the tempo with each rotation

The only other sound I can hear is of my own lungs
   as they fill up and deflate in perfectly awkward timing
On my inhale, with my eyes shut, I can hear the roll of waves getting ready to swallow a shore
   On my exhale, the sound as they blanket the sand and retreat back ever so stealthy
For a moment I'm standing on a beach right before sunrise and I cannot see a thing

I trick myself into thinking I can hear my heart knocking on my chest plate
   And I can't tell if it's asking to be let out or if it's trying to break out
It all makes me want to jump headfirst into the sky, the clouds seem quiet
   But for some reason I recall learning the opposite
In a small way, I hope they're louder than we all think
   So when I get up there they can drown out all the noise down here

New Roses

Even when your brain slips away
And it forgets every memory we made
I will write them all down for you
Even when your body is cold
And your veins stop racing
Even when your eyes glass over
And your skin no long radiates
Even if your hands can no longer grasp mine
I will try to keep you secure and warm
Even when your wrists stop vibrating
And your limbs become stones
Even when your lungs fail to rise 
I'll breathe for the two of us
Even after the worms take their share
Every inch of you will still belong to me
Even when you become the grass
And the roses bloom with your scent
Even as those roses wilt
And sink back into the ground
You will always belong to me