3am
Loneliness is my bittersweet companion.
Tears well up inside
My mind ponders endless what-if’s and I lack the will to resist
My fingers patter away forming words and sometimes, coherent thoughts
I hope that in some way
Someone
Might understand the words I type
Sometimes I hope that in-between the lines I will find
A friend, or family, or unlikely a lover, the first of her kind
The
First
True
Love
My wondering thoughts could hardly be called a poem or even a journal entry.
But
Maybe
In-between the lines
Art
Born from emotion,
Born from the depths of my aching heart.