I sit here all alone at my desk, weeping
I ask myself what is it that I really want?


I want to be accepted, for the person that I am
I want to be loved, for the smile upon my lips
I want to be cared for, like every woman who deserves it
I want to be comforted, in my sorrows
I want to be made love to, passionately
I want to be missed, like this is my last day on earth
I want to be remembered, like a memory that never fades away


- philoism