Ah. And again, I feel the need to write.

My life baffles me.
All the wonderful, exciting things
Cause a stir within me for
Everlasting life, and

Then they are gone,

All at once.
I whine, and I cry, to myself,
Because who else is there to go
To pour myself out to? Cos,

Honestly, I never tell everyone everything.

"What keeps me going?",
A rhetorical question I keep
Repeating into infinity, into a
Neverending echo of

Utter hopelessness, yet

Hoping he will hear
And come to rescue me and
Cause the uproar within me,
Again, forever.

"What keeps me going?"

I whisper, "What
Keeps me writing?" Cos he
Sure as hell won't read this, and
I, right as rain,

Won't come out and tell him how he's kept me going.