What Is Tomorrow Worth. . .

What are words anymore? Other than a device to make me a fool.

Documenting my thoughts online. What about this isn't an attempt to be noticed? What about this isn't attention-seeking? What about this isn't written in the hope that She will read it someday? What about this is subtle?

I'm not sure of anything anymore. I can feel myself changing, and I don't know where this change is taking me. To bitter shores, it seems. I feel. . .angry.

I feel lonely.

I just. . .I just want to be with someone. Not anybody. Someone.

But I can't.

Here comes, a visible horizon.
Right where it starts and ends.
Oh, and then we start the end.
Here comes, a visible illusion.
Oh, where it starts and ends.
You're like a sunset