Holding Your Coat

I hung your jacket on the peg.

The heavy zipper settles down.

The dark coat hangs against the door.

Away from all the noisy town.

You can put down your heavy coat.

The wooden peg will hold the weight.

You do not have to run today.

I sit with you, it is not late.

The collar folds against the wall.

The wet rain drips into the tray.

You step inside and close your eyes.

And let the evening turn to grey.

You can put down your heavy coat.

The hallway peg keeps it in place.

You can just stop and take a breath.

We share this quiet, gentle space.

The coat stays hanging on the wall.

Your shoulders are unburdened now.

We sit together on the rug.

The heavy coat is put away.

I sit right next to you tonight.

You do not have to be so strong.

We rest until the morning light.

The hallway lamp is soft and low.

You do not have to say a word.

I pulled a chair beside the wall.

The quietest thing you ever heard.

I will stay right where I am.

The yellow bulb warms up the floor.

You do not have to carry this.

I left the latch upon the door.

Your hands are resting in your lap.

The shadow settles on the rug.

There is no hurry in this room.

I set down one heavy mug.

I will stay right where I am.

The hallway light stays burning clear.

You can just close your eyes tonight.

Nothing can hurt you while I am here.

No one is asking you to stand.

No one is counting up the hours.

The house is still and calm and wide.

The light stays on for you tonight.

I am not going anywhere.

Just rest your head and breathe real slow.

The room is warm and full of care.

I draped my coat across your back.

The wool is thick and worn and dark.

The floor is cold beneath our knees.

Outside the street is quiet and stark.

You can stop pretending now.

The heavy sleeves will keep you warm.

I sit right down against the wall.

We do not need to fight the storm.

Your shoulders drop an inch or two.

The fabric holds the chilly air.

I do not ask what went wrong today.

I only bring a friend's quiet care.

You can stop pretending now.

The coat stays resting on your frame.

You do not have to be so strong.

I do not need to know a name.

The room is cold but we are still.

The dark is soft around the edges.

I stay right here beside your side.

The heavy wool is warm tonight.

I am still sitting by your side.

You do not have to move a step.

Here in the calm where we can hide.

I put a glass upon the shelf.

The water settles clear and cold.

You sit upon the lowest step.

There is no story to be told.

I am sitting right next to you.

The glass is resting on the wood.

You do not have to fix a thing.

I stay right where I know I should.

A small red coaster underneath.

The condensation drops down slow.

Your knuckles relax on your knee.

There is no place we have to go.

I am sitting right next to you.

Take just a sip whenever you like.

No explanations needed now.

We wait until the morning light.

The glass is cool against your hand.

I hold my breath and let you rest.

No words are needed in the dark.

The glass is sitting on the wood.

I keep my shoulder close to yours.

You do not have to talk tonight.

We rest behind these wooden doors.

I brought my back against the wood.

The runner carpet soft and red.

I sit outside your quiet room.

No heavy words are being said.

I will be here when you come out.

My feet are flat upon the floor.

Take all the time you need today.

I sit right here outside the door.

The floorboards make a tiny creak.

I lean my head against the frame.

I do not knock or press you now.

I do not call you by your name.

I will be here when you come out.

The runner carpet keeps us still.

You do not have to face the world.

I stand right here against the chill.

The lock stays turned until you choose.

I bring no hurry to your space.

The hallway floor is wide and slow.

I am still sitting by the door.

The hallway rug is soft and deep.

I will be right here all night long.

Until you finally fall asleep.

The window hums against my head.

The green vinyl seat is worn and blue.

The city lights go blurring past.

I move a little closer to you.

You can just lean your head on me.

The bus moves steady through the night.

We do not have to reach the end.

The streetlights cast a yellow light.

Your hand is heavy in your coat.

The driver takes the turn so slow.

I do not ask where we should get off.

I let the dark wheels roll and go.

You can just lean your head on me.

The vinyl seat is cool and wide.

No one is watching who we are.

I stay right here along the ride.

The engine hums a low soft song.

The tires splash on rainy street.

We hold this corner in the dark.

The bus will take us through the night.

My arm is pressed against your sleeve.

You do not have to figure it out.

I am right here, I will not leave.

I smoothed the quilt across your feet.

The cotton squares are blue and grey.

The morning sun is not yet up.

The world is miles and miles away.

You do not have to start the day.

The heavy quilt is warm and deep.

I set my chair beside the bed.

Just lie back down and go to sleep.

The seams are old and stitched by hand.

It wraps around your folded knees.

The room is cool and full of shade.

Outside the wind is in the trees.

You do not have to start the day.

The cotton fabric holds the heat.

No one demands a thing from you.

The shadows fade upon the sheet.

The quiet hours are safe and slow.

I keep my eyes upon the floor.

You have permission to just rest.

The quilt stays warm across your frame.

I am still sitting in this chair.

Sleep for as long as you can manage.

I will be right beside you there.

The stainless kettle on the stove.

A quiet steam begins to rise.

I turn the burner down so low.

You rest your tired, heavy eyes.

We do not need to hurry now.

The steam is rising soft and slow.

I pour the water in two cups.

There is no place we need to go.

The silver lid gives one soft click.

The warmth spreads through the quiet air.

I leave the tea bags in the pot.

And draw another wooden chair.

We do not need to hurry now.

The metal kettle calms the room.

You do not have to speak a line.

The kitchen softly breaks the gloom.

The heat is gentle on our hands.

The water steeps without a sound.

We take this moment as it is.

The warm tea sits between us now.

The kettle cools upon the stove.

I am right here beside your chair.

Wrapped in this quiet kind of love.

You sit down on the entry bench.

Your shoes are wet with gravel dust.

I bend down low and pull the knots.

In simple things that we can trust.

You do not have to walk today.

I set your sneakers by the wall.

The leather is undone and loose.

I will be here through it all.

The muddy laces fall apart.

I pull the heels off gentle now.

Your tired feet can finally rest.

Without you having to know how.

You do not have to walk today.

The worn-out shoes are placed aside.

The floor is warm beneath your socks.

There is no reason left to hide.

The long road stays outside the door.

Your steps are over for the night.

I put your shoes against the mat.

Your shoes are waiting by the door.

You do not have to take another step.

I sit down right beside your feet.

To hold the promise that I kept.

The iron pipes begin to clink.

A steady warmth comes through the paint.

We lean our backs against the wall.

The street outside is dim and faint.

Just feel the heat against your back.

The radiator hums so low.

You can be quiet all night long.

We let the heavy hours go.

The white paint chipped along the edge.

It warms the chilly kitchen tile.

I pull my knees up to my chest.

And wait with you a long, long while.

Just feel the heat against your back.

The iron holds the gentle warm.

You do not have to pull through now.

We are protected from the storm.

The sound of water in the pipe.

A quiet rhythm in the wall.

We hold our place inside the heat.

The radiator keeps us warm.

I sit right next to you tonight.

We do not need to solve a thing.

Until the coming of the light.

I wrapped a napkin round the cup.

The cardboard heat is soft and deep.

I put it right between your palms.

A little comfort you can keep.

Just hold the warmth inside your hands.

The paper cup is full and still.

You do not have to make a choice.

I sit with you against the chill.

The steam comes floating off the lid.

Your fingers curve around the rim.

The sky outside is turning grey.

The corner shop is growing dim.

Just hold the warmth inside your hands.

The drink stays hot between your palms.

You can just sit and breathe real slow.

The quiet evening brings its calms.

No one is waiting for your word.

The cup is heavy, warm and round.

We watch the street lamps flicker on.

The cup is warm against your skin.

I am sitting right here by your side.

You do not have to say a word.

Here in the quiet where we hide.

We sit together on the ninth step.

Where the wooden stairs turn around.

The rest of the house is sleeping now.

There is no other human sound.

I am right here upon the step.

The wooden floor is smooth and old.

You can just lean against my arm.

We stay away from all the cold.

The banister is dark and smooth.

A shadow rests upon the stair.

I sit one step below your feet.

And keep my shoulder steady there.

I am right here upon the step.

The stair turn hides us from the hall.

You do not have to carry this.

I will not let you break or fall.

The house is resting in the dark.

The steps are solid underneath.

We take a slow and quiet breath.

We sit together on the stairs.

I am right here beside your shoe.

You can stay here as long as needed.

I will stay right here with you.

I set your key upon the tray.

It dropped with one small metal sound.

You dropped your shoulders near the wall.

And sat right down upon the ground.

You do not have to be so brave.

The key is resting on the dish.

You do not have to explain a thing.

I bring no demand or wish.

The brass is dull from rainy air.

It lies beside the mail today.

I pull my seat up near your side.

And put the heavy tasks away.

You do not have to be so brave.

The brass key lies inside the hall.

You can be terrible at this.

I will be here through it all.

The door is locked against the night.

The metal key rests in its place.

We share this quiet little room.

The key is resting on the tray.

I sit beside you on the floor.

You do not have to go back out.

We locked the trouble at the door.

The windowpane is cold and wet.

A fog has gathered on the glass.

We watch the drops roll down so slow.

And wait for quiet hours to pass.

I watch the windowpane with you.

The rain is drumming soft and clear.

You do not have to fix your mood.

I am content to be right here.

You draw a line across the mist.

The glass is cool against your hand.

I do not tell you how to feel.

I sit right where you let me stand.

I watch the windowpane with you.

The gray rain washes through the street.

You can just let the tears fall down.

We share this quiet window seat.

The glass is thick against the wind.

The rain is slow and steady now.

We stay right here inside the room.

The window stays between the cold.

I keep my hand close to your side.

The rain will fall until it stops.

Here in the shelter where we hide.

My cotton sweater soft and grey.

You rest your head against my sleeve.

The evening settles in the room.

There is no place I have to leave.

Just rest your weight against my arm.

The soft cotton holds your face.

You do not have to hold it up.

We occupy this quiet space.

I feel you take a heavy breath.

The fabric folds beneath your cheek.

I keep my posture still and firm.

No need for either one to speak.

Just rest your weight against my arm.

The grey sweater holds the night.

You can just be exhausted now.

We wait until the morning light.

My shoulder holds you steady here.

The room is soft without a lamp.

We stay right in the quiet warm.

My arm is resting next to yours.

You can lean in as heavy as you are.

I am not going anywhere tonight.

We are not moving very far.

The wall clock makes a steady sound.

It ticks and sways upon the wood.

We listen to the seconds pass.

In ways that can be understood.

We let the quiet clock tick on.

The wooden case is dark and tall.

You do not have to count the time.

I sit beside you near the wall.

The pendulum swings back and forth.

A rhythmic pulse across the rug.

I hand you over one warm towel.

And offer you a silent hug.

We let the quiet clock tick on.

The ticking fills the empty space.

You do not have to hurry now.

We sit together in this place.

The hours move along so slow.

The sound is gentle in the dark.

We share the stillness of the room.

The clock ticks slow upon the wall.

I am still sitting by your side.

We take it one small second now.

Here in the quiet where we hide.