The heavy, dark Lonely sinks into my skin again,
As it always does this time of night.
I don't even try to sleep, I know my thoughts will win the fight.
I'm always kept awake by my overactive mind,
And the ache in my chest gets stronger with the time.
The Lonely manifests in physical pain,
Double-teaming my body and my brain.
I want to spill my ink,
I don't want to rhyme,
I want to break my ukulele's bridge and burn every page of my sketchbooks,
Because no matter how I try to show people my heart
They shrug me aside—
And I know I'm not wondrous at art,
But I could write you a symphony if you'd just let me
Lay my head against your chest and listen to your heart beat.
I'd sing for you forever, at that tempo, about that safety.
I swear to god I'd worship you if you could somehow **** my Lonely.