3 AM and the famed “World’s Best Coffee” Isn’t doing the trick.
Dawn at diners Is where the lonely Gather for company ‘Cause we’re tired of Laying alone on a bed Too big for one Too small for our thoughts Too much of a reminder.
[Your imprint still fresh, An outline to the right side of my pillowcase, And some nights, When I’m consumed by thoughts of you, I’ll crawl into the depression, And let the space engulf me, Until I remember that, Just ‘cause you laid on the right side, Didn’t mean you were always right, And a strange metaphorical hope Bubbles out of me, When I remember that Hearts tilt to the left, But, when you left, It was quite heartless.]
We prefer indistinct strangers Who we secretly hope Have stranger problems That maybe they’ll share To make ours seem more bearable But, more often than not, We sit in a shared silence Fatigued, insomniac, alone together, The (lonely) only chatter with the night shift waitress.