Give me answers.
Something to,
Grasp.
Innocence clinging to a familiar finger.
Give me a sign.
That the clocks,
Tumbling forward,
Are not in vain.
That at the end of this street,
Is a warm welcoming home,
With arms spread,
Easy to collapse into.
Give me hope.
At least maybe its better than,
A slammed door in the face.
Or a direct never, ever.
Give me your hand.
Familiar veins,
Pumping warmth,
And nervous sweat,
Because,
Tomorrow,
Is,
Something,
You,
Can't,
Expect.
