I used to enjoy being alone,
But then it became loneliness,
And it is somehow suffocating
To lie here personless.

My bedsheets crave your touch,
As I crave your presence,
We are both isolated, but
I am unsure in which sense.

I promised myself months ago that
This pencil would not touch paper,
And write words about you,
(but it's 00:26 and) I can't think of anything better.