A lake of tears still grows beneath me. The lines below my eyes indicate many nights without sleep. I lie here waiting, staring at the ceiling, hoping that one day your magnificence will interrupt my sight of the barren whiteness above. Hopefully that day will be soon.
There is no guidance for those that are willingly lost in the coalescent emotions brought forth by the thousands of people around them. They could very well be damned to live sparse and to be terse in their acquaintances with those of a different kind. But one could never fully know that the next time the sunrise breaks fortnight a timid could wander from their shadows divigating the chaos and end up looking for shelter in your dark recluse.
It's sombering to realize that nobody really cares for you and the one to whom you'd like to care for doesn't realize that you are there.