Kinsella

I'll sit on the lawn until the dew soaks

through my clothes and penetrates through my skin

and I will breathe the night air 'til it chokes

and stretches my trachea paper thin.

I'll look up at your room 'til the sight burns

from the fires flickering from your sill,

I'll wait out the night 'til the moon adjourns

and even when day breaks I will sit still.

I'll shiver in the wind 'til she's lost her voice

or she goes to howl at some other poor soul,

I will pretend that this is all through my choice

and that everything is under control.

But it must not be okay, sat on your grass

and all night I wonder if this will pass.