There's not an ounce of softness left within this weathered heart
The hand against the nap of fur disturbs that sleeping part
No need for caution don't need remorse
That close to crying
Bristled and borne an altered force
That close to crying

Semi-automatic steel gray hollow eyes how they stare back
Impassively mechanically annoyed in bluish black
A twitching tail a nervous finger
That close to crying
What tension waiting to slash in anger
That close to crying

A click of light and then a flash of any action taken
Illumined mystery clear and sharp and all of my own making
A shattering crack a full report
That close to crying
Released and slack a slumping form
That close to crying

That close to crying is not close at all what line of fire was crossed
No cerebral contemplation of carefully altered thought
No Hail Mary no desperate toss
That close to crying
The wave awaited recedes in loss
That close to crying