i sleep with my feet twisted up, all alone

and i dance with my own hands on my waist

fleeting feelings are always somehow chased

its so nice to have yourself, your own throne i fall in love with ones i have never known

like the boy who just walked past, his steps paced

im rash, imagining our fingers laced

despite this, ive learned to be on my own

when i see those girls out with their lovers,

and a mother with her young, young children,

or even two best friends laughing closely, i recall twined feet under the covers

this is whats left at the tip of my pen:

loneness is nice but i wish i werent lonely