It's not really poetry but it's pretty he said

As he raises his voice she lowers her head

It makes my heart heavey you're lonely I think

Oh rose you're sad I suppose

Look in her bed and she's bound to be sleeping

She's lying there dead but she's breathing

Furious Rose with your opiate eyes

Your languorous hum that tone of surprise

I've heard energy in adversity

Your smile the soul of witchery

You're not running away

You're not running are you

Lyrically longing she's tearing the words from the page

She's fearfully seething

Bring me your blessings a prayer or a new pen

You don't know what I need

Look in my bed and I'm bound to be sleeping

I'm lying there dead but I'm breathing

And I'm barely balancing as it is

And I don't want to drown in my dreams

Bring me wild plums and agrimony

I bet you don't even know what that means

Furious Rose with your opiate eyes

Your languorous hum that tone of surprise

I've heard energy in adversity

Your smile the soul of witchery

You're not running away

You're not running

You're not running away

You're not running

You're not running away

You're not running

Are you

Gingerly peering over his shoulders removed herself from the room

She's terribly freezing she always knows when to go