Questions for a lonely girl,
Circulate the air.
They spin around, swirl, curl,
Much like the spirals of her hair.
She breaths in deep,
With no answers arising.
A piece of him she wants to keep,
An ease of letting go is surprising.
Numbing thoughts of what could be,
A never will, leaves her lying still.
The thrills of tomorrow, churning her sea,
Inside this body a strong growing chill.
For now, she sits with a whipping mind,
Feeding a soul of loving taste.
Knowing somewhere there is someone to find,
Well aware that the way is moderate haste.
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