I love what I'm afraid of:
the cold comfort of loneliness,
the cold damp floor.
Don't pick me up.
(At least not yet), I like it.
The cold damp floor.

Lift me up, against the wind.
I want to run, until my legs give up.
I want to fight this.
No, wait.
Put me back down.
On the cold damp floor
and just wrap your arms around me.



M.E.