I don’t think,
I even know what I want anymore?
I am no longer in sync,
And I am burnt out at my core,

Any possibility that comes my way,
I throw my hands up in defence,
And warn them to rather stay away,
Nothing will the pain I’ve felt recompense,

It’s hard not to act on ones inhibitions,
The need to feel in yourself homely,
And not to act on past intuitions,
So just crown me miss lonely,

Avoiding emotional availability has become a stealth,
As I remain my own one and only,
Just coherent to myself,
So just crown me miss lonely.

I am the singular that can appease just me,
My heart of which now avoids love stonily,
In love? ha! There are many a other things I’d rather be,
So just crown me miss lonely,