Liking him was cool, I guess...
I loved hanging out with him,
Lying on his arm,
Him lying on mine,
Talking,
Being quiet,
Being in company,
Being alone.
How was I supposed to know?

Beautiful bird bring your broken wing;
Sit on my sill and sing to me your secrets.

Truthfully, I could use the company.

Loneliness is easy to confuse

Because people think loneliness

Is the product of a lack of company.


When somebody leaves you

You were alone before they left.


Loneliness is a lack of comfort in yourself.

Being yourself
Means being with yourself
And when you're with yourself
How could you ever feel lonely again?

Can I come a little bit closer?
Like this?
That's okay?
I know I'm such a poser.
Feeling more like a loser.

Is it alright if I say this?
Too much?
Too soon?
Can't believe I already miss
your company when I'm supposed to be in his

Arms, strong enough to hold me
but what if I need softness to be
the strength I'm holding on to; she
gives me something more to see
in darkened eyes great honesty

I'll keep your words with great pride
Show yourself to me, don't hide
Let me stay a bit longer                                                    by your side.

Peace or bliss or be it the happiness
without the human can these be found?
Be it the alluring nectar of the bliss could it
compensate for the loss of a loved one?

Blooming roses can delight the eyes
but what better could one have than
other than getting closer to the one
open heart company of a human being?

So sweetly sit’s the muse
She’s graced you with a gaze you can use
Lava-like ruby eyes rile and rivet you
But one wonders when she arrived
She came in the dead winter of your sorrows
She came after life harpooned hopeful tomorrows
She came when friends became frigid and hollow
And why? Well it’s your pain that she came to borrow
Her actions lacking rhyme and reason, are so hard to follow
Tears that turn hard thoughts to liquid,
Are the polish she uses to make her crown glisten and glow
Cries that crowd your chest in chronic pain,
Are the notes she plays on her lyre for magnificent melodies
Despair that drips like acid until your soul stews in steam
She dips upon her eyes to see all more clearly
So though we may not know her whim or ways
Mysterious muse will mingle with you on your most defeated days