It's unfair how cold I am,

sitting on this balcony

gazing out at the city.

All the lights

and sounds from below

remind me of how alone I am.

Not alone really…

more like lonely.

It's getting harder

to distinguish between

the two now.

They both feel the same.

You're out there,

somewhere,

in this city

with people you love

but I'm not among them.

Not because you

don't love me,

I hope.

I'm slipping away now.

It's hard to focus

when I'm shivering this way.

The cold has nothing to do

With this chill.

The others are here now

but it doesn't make a difference.

They don't notice me,

and that's ok.

I'll just wait here,

for someone to call me,

someone to save me.

Things will be better then…

But that's how all of these poems end.

And nothing ever changes.