Lonely. Sometimes. Always.

Watching the morning birth like the light that stains your eyes every time you speak, I begin to envy the bitter sweet coffee taste; how easily consuming. It's nights like these I'm not sure if it's the coffee or the fear that keeps me awake. I'm afraid of everything, that it's all true at the same time it's fake. We're constantly told of the one and only, but the truth is, it's only you, like it's only me.
Lonely, sometimes, always.