I have come to know
the perpetuity of loneliness
the habits that are formed
when one has no one but their own

I have come to stare
at an empty image
of a person in a state of grey
An endless grey that soon will not heal

And now I have come to fall
on to a cold, barren bed
Drafty and stale as it grazes over
the long-faded lines that you have left