I'm used to not meaning much to anyone.
I'm used to being alone -
And really, I can't complain.
My solitary lifestyle suits my personality,
Observing, watching the world pass by,
Curled around my book and cup of tea -
Maybe a little judgmental,
Maybe a little sad.
But you know, it gets lonely.
I'm my own best friend, it's true-
But sometimes I want to call someone
And watch a movie, or just sit around
And do nothing in particular-
Just sharing air and experiences.
Then again, who am I kidding.
I'm not good at the friend thing.
So I shall continue with my book
And my cup of tea with tinges of judgement
Watching the rain dripping down the windows
With a smile and a sigh.