Alone

I'm sitting here, in my micro-room, staring at white walls and wishing, terribly, for someone to call. Someone to care. Someone to ask if I'm OK. But nobody cares. Nobody sees my weakness ... yes, even I, the ice presence that sends them shivers on their spine - even I need someone to care. Someone to talk to me. Someone ...

And I stare at the white walls crashing me. A new life, just to hide the old age of my body and my soul. A new beginning to run away for the bad endings of the past. A future to prevent the past for taking over.

Lies. I just miss you, I just need you. And I don't deserve you. And I shouldn't have you. But I dream of it - it's my prohibited fruit.

Someone - please - just talk to me ...