I hear the ticking of my clock,
then the chime as it strikes ten.
The room is dark and warm tonight...
only a fan keeps it tolerable.
You are safely in bed, asleep.
The demons in your mind are too.
You left your door open wide...
so I peek in to check on you.
Sometimes an angel, others not--
but just what am I to you, honey?
Am I your lover, or punching bag?
Am I your friend, or am I nothing?
You stir in your sleep, smiling.
Perhaps your mind-demons will rest.
I blow you a kiss and start back,
thinking of what we mean to each other.