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Never was.
I have nobody in which to wait for.
There is no-one waiting outside my door.
I know this and I’ve always known.
I’ve resigned to it as I’ve grown.
No arms for me in which to leap.
No body in which beside I’ll sleep.
No trinkets or memories for me to cling to.
I know I’ll never be one part of two.
I’m merely a half of a whole.
And a waste of a soul.
I’m everything to no-one.
And I know I’m no fun.
There are no photos of us.
For there never was an us.
Within a crowd I’m merely a speck.
I have no beauty and I have no respect.
I’ve no-one to dream of, I barely sleep.
Who could learn to love this mess, this heap?
This mutilated and empty monster.
Who would have her, who would want her?
