Do you remember when tunneling ravines would flow through our stomachs before we spoke out into the open?
And how vigorously tapping our feet felt like the only way to shake the mountains, daring to bury us alive...
or how when cold shoulders felt like judgment harmonized
and yet the dissonance euphonized in our ears as we swept our heads back into the open arms of the universe,
engulfed by inescapable laughter  

Now things are different; you wear your heart on your sleeve, washing the shores of people and things that scare you with your perpetual confidence,

and I proudly observe in wonder and admiration...

Distantly tapping my feet, fighting ravines, and laughing alone.

It leaves its handprints on all that I see,
and tarnishes all I touch with poison
Feeds depression like a maggot, to deepen
this cursed mire that is my place to be
It snatches my thoughts away from all glee,
and I wish I would vanish, be hidden
And alone long for a secret Eden,
for a decade it has tormented me

It told me: ”You will never have a hand
to hold, nor starry eyes to madly love
Alone you'll stay, you're too broken, cautious
Your spirit forever burns with my brand,
there will be no olive branch, no sweet dove”
Thus spoke the cold, dead void called Loneliness