The person born with two shoulders to cry on.

And a heart that yearns to console a hurt soul.

With hands that hold and arms that embrace.

Ears that listen to everyone’s problem.

But where is their love? Who listens to them when they’re in need?

Don’t their problems matter? Isn't their pain worth being healed?

Where is the shoulder they need to cry their salty seas on?

Oh right. I forgot. They have nobody.

Nobody wants to give back.

Nobody wants to hear about things that doesn't involve them.

NOBODY CARES!

They forgot they are in a cold world.

When their pillow becomes damp

and the room gets darker and they eyes redder

and their nose drips slime and the headaches begin

and their body starts to shiver

and their heart slows down once the cries put them to sleep.

But the next morning they realize that nights like those will come

day after day hoping and wishing they had someone.

But they don’t, because that somebody is a someone which is nobody.