My Version of Beethhoven's Immortal Beloved (in prose)

No one is coming...
To help me
Save me
Love me
Lay with me
Until I stop weeping 

The horrors
The terrors
So many
So many
More than I could have ever imagined
(And, I'm a writer...)

No, no one is coming
No one is coming
No one...

To help me
Save me
Love me
Hold me through the night
And, never leave...for any reason

No, no one is coming
No one is coming
No one...
To kiss away the tears
Take away my fears
Love me through the years

One can love herself, it's true
But when we are orphaned by the living
We need more than self-love
We need at least one someone
A good someone
A sweet someone
But it's the users
The takers
The miserable...they find us

And I, I have been sent to expose them all--
Every. 
Single. 
One.

No, no one is coming...
​But I'm here
Still, always
Immortal and beloved
Even if I'm one of the few standing up
While everyone else is looking for a chair.

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