I sit on the floors, staring at you, pet.
For your dark eyes steal me each time I lay.
There are many chairs to sit on, I bet.
Yet, I stay, for I just can’t look away.
For your coat - soft, matted mess - captures me.
I stay all day, just to rest in your hair.
Because I know I don’t understand thee.
My words are noise, still, when I speak, you’re there.
But I’m poison to myself, every day.
For a time waits, when you will see the light.
That is when remorse takes my soul away,
For you know it when we both sit in fright.
Yet, I’ll always return, sitting on floors.
I’ll see you, too right outside of my doors.