Late Night Love Will Let You Down

Don't let me fall, I'm already on the edge
trying to lean backwards,
but the wind blew and blew
I don't want to tumble
I don't want to lose
But I just can't help it,
the wind is blowing me to you

Don't let me approach the edge too near
because falling is something I have to fear
I know that i need to get out of here
but I just want to take the leap

Coming home is a feeling, not an act
A house is not a home, in fact
and a person can be a room
My favorite room is you

Coffee-stained mornings, and long smiling nights
secret telling parties, and admitting of frights,
The passing of time can no longer be told by a clock,
If this is going to happen every time that we talk

This poem is about: 
Me

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