Pawprints Through the Night

The ceiling melts to violet above my bed,
While restless colours bloom inside my head.
I drift beneath a tide of sleepless blue,
Until four little paws come walking through.

He wakes beside me when the night turns strange,
A quiet pulse moving through the darkened range.
His whiskers brush my cheek, then disappear,
A tiny constellation drawing near.

His paws press softly into sheets of red,
Leaving pale impressions where I rest my head.
I feel each step before I see his face,
Four little stars returning me to place.

The walls breathe green; the bedroom starts to sway,
While heavy thoughts turn ultraviolet grey.
My hands retreat beneath the scarlet sea,
And something warm comes walking back to me.

He crosses where my trembling fingers lie,
Then settles there and watches with one eye.
His pawprints bloom like flowers through the gloom,
Four little moons awakening the room.

The numbers bleed from clocks that cannot speak,
While fractured hours crawl across my cheek.
I lose myself inside their pulsing glow,
Until his gentle weight reminds me so.

Depression paints the ceiling indigo,
And makes the darkest parts of midnight grow.
The old familiar urges start to appear,
Then find his breathing whispering in my ear.

He wakes again and climbs across my chest,
As though he knows precisely where to rest.
His paws leave silver echoes on my skin,
And pull me from the place I'm sinking in.

I dream my scars become electric vines,
That twist around my arms in crooked lines.
They bloom with colours no one else can see,
Until his paw interrupts the dream in me.

The mattress turns to water underneath,
And sleep becomes a mouth of pearly teeth.
I start to fall through oceans made of sound,
Then feel four tiny footsteps come around.

He kneads the scarlet blanket, one by one,
While somewhere in the curtains grows the sun.
His purring turns the crimson room to gold,
A fragile warmth against the night's cold hold.

Morning spills like mercury through my mind,
And leaves the fevered colours far behind.
His pawprints fade, but leave their quiet trace,
A small, warm promise I can still embrace.