The price I have to pay,
For too many different embraces.
Nothing left to say.
But I’m left lusting as a witness.
Love never comes.
Where can I find it?
If I find someone who feels like home.
Why would I want to hide it?
So I’ll make friends with the moon, as I try not to let the doom consume.
And appreciate the flowers in the sun, as I hope to find someone before I crash, burn and run.