21

It's Loneliness blowing in your ears,
Through the blackness.
Not her.
Not me.
So let Loneliness melt his icy grip
On your shoulder.
Let him creep back to the hidden mirrors in which he came,
To undo his hold on your stolen blue eyes.
Don't take his advice
When he tells you that you've seen the only person
Who will love you for you at
21.
Because it's Time who will tell you
If she's the one.