Words words and wants; needs of a body.
Touch touch and quiet rooms; too cold to breathe right.
Eyes, eyes and hands; they all left.
Nightmares, nightmares and waking terror; lack of emotion.

Words shroud my mind when I ask where the tools for survival are.

But when the eyes are watching and their hands do most for you. You're left with empty palms and your steering wheel is no longer in your control.

Nightmares they aren't only during the dark. But in the sunshine you're skin still runs...