She was my sun
My all
My fun
And my fall

I guess is a spell
What a face
I am not well
Such a phase

She was my all
She was my best
She was my mold
She was my nest

She was what home felt like
I needed her so much
But I've never confessed
Now
I'm just homeless

- Can we speak?

In the end
it is me,
for me.
The problem is that I do not care for myself either.

- I don't know why I keep expecting someone else to save me from myself.

I am
The lighthouse
and the storm
altogether

- I worry for the ship that goes by

This is who I am: A forever work on progress

Not another tear
Not for it

I don't know why
But when the sun goes down
I go down alongside it

- perhaps I'm a sunflower

I
Falled
But you
Had a better sense of balance

- it goes on and on