Yes, Alone But That s Not Lonely

Yes, alone — but that’s not lonely.
Morning breaks…
I rise, make up my bed,
And brew dark coffee for my head.

My slender shape will dart and flash,
Past the wardrobe, in a quiet dash.

Mirror, we are no longer friends.
Once we whispered—now it ends.
You betray me with time’s cruel hand;
No joy remains at your command.

Yet still, I look—unwillingly,
Though it drains the life from me.
I trace my eyes with shadow black,
And paint my lips with crimson back.

A stubborn lock—I pin it tight.
I touch my face… a subtle slight—
A wrinkle deep. But I don’t mind;
As always, I remain kind.

I take my keys, and at the door,
The darkness swallows light once more.
“Goodbye,” I whisper, low and deep,
“I’ll return tonight, when shadows sleep.”

The day will pass—so fast, so blind.
No one waits for me to find.
I come back home; it feels so strange—
Like living dead in endless change.

Youth has fled—too quick, too fleet,
Chasing dreams on busy feet.
Now to catch them feels too far—
Desire dimmed to a silent star.

But I won’t cry—I know my place.
I’ve bowed to fate; I’ve seen its face.
Yes, alone — but that’s not lonely…
Then why does it still ache—so wholly?