I know that you are alone,
quiet, and without a hope for tomorrow.
You've heard the same songs over
and over and over again.
You've had these same thoughts
over and over and over again.
Pain takes its toll with repetition.

I know that you are alone, tonight.
Your friends and lovers are not here.
(Where are they? I do not know,
but they are not here.)
Silence is overwhelming,
the crickets and lilies are your only friends, tonight.

I know that you are alone, tomorrow.
I know this because it never ends,
you pray for hope but hope never comes.
Time will not fix you tomorrow...
...or to-morrow or to-morrow...

I know that you are alone, every day and every night.
You are alone in the crowd
You are alone on the sidewalk
You are alone in the smoke.

Yet, in some strange fashion,
you are not alone.
While you sit alone in your quiet room,
while you lay alone in your cold bed,
while you cry alone on the bathroom floor:
others are dying alone
too.

And thus:
we are not alone because we are alone:
a mountain of bleeding corpses all bleeding together.