Hold me.

 I'm afraid to say or feel,

by the short of what I felt.

My feelings are drawing borders on a night sky,

in which I'd like to fall,

even thought is just a mere sketch of what

my feeling drew.

But still I wouldn't mind

fall on such endless night.

You may be waiting on the dawn,

of the light that makes you see,

feel and breathe.

I wanted to breathe the air,

that you didn't want to keep,

I'd like to breath such air.

Should we take turns?

Would you let me try?

Water your roots,

you'll grow.

I'll water them

should I take them close?