Lean on me.

Want to get into my head? Try these, for starters.

In times like these,
I wished he were here,
To hold, to comfort;
Just carress me dear.

In times like these,
The tears that pains,
From the heart it came,
Wipe them away,
And not let your feelings sway.

In times like these,
I wished he were here,
To be the one that ceases;
Let the bad disappear,
And not do as they please.

In times like these,
I wished he were here,
To hug, hold tight;
And love unconditionally.

In times like these,
I wished his hand laid on mine,
Making sure I was alright,
Setting my heart alight.

In times like these,
I wished he were here,
To stare into the night,
And tell me:
"You're a better sight".

In times like these,
I wished he were here,
Not to bring in fear,
Or tell me clear,
What I need and what not,
Because all I needed-
It's just that hand slot.

In times like these,
I wished he were here,
Just so he knows,
That I carry this love alone,
Unable to share them wholly,
The heroin that breaks,
But stands up again,
With nothing else to gain.

In times like these,
I wished I didn't have to be the one,
To hold out a hand,
Instead, a welcoming gesture,
From him to me,
Which says "Lean on me."

That's all I need.
Would you be my steed?

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The night was dark. It was already past midnight. Her heart grew uneasy, and a little wary. What was she to do? The clock was ticking.
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She sat down with her friends. One she loved. Yes, he was one of them. They drank and some ate. But her mind was wondering off. Earlier on, a civil war had aroused. Puzzled, not knowing what she should do, she said nothing.
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By now, she would think that some had seen her frown. She didn't try to hide them, as she couldn't. For once, she felt that she deserved to be unhappy. At times like these, she wished he was there, to hold that cold hand. Ironicly, he was there. But only in her mind, he was able to make that gesture.
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She often questioned. Civil wars come and go. But where does that extra pain come from? Why does it interfere with the rest of her? She soon found her answer, as easily as the questions came. She misses him. She knows he's there but there was naught that could be done. She cried that night. And there he was. But she couldn't lean on him.
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Crying through the night. She wondered, who could have actually read her thoughts there and then. The only answer she came up with is, His truly - The God. There he was sitting beside her. So close as he was, but that was it. She couldn't bring herself to lean on him.
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Lean on him, lean on him, her heart whispered. But she sustained them inside. You can cry on his shoulders, go ahead...go, her heart whispered once more. But she restrained from doing so. She didn't know why, but when she finally got home, all she felt was the emptiness that overwhelmed her mind and soul.
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She needed him to tell her it was alright to cry. Alright to lean on him. Alright to show vulnerabilities. She needed for him to say those magic words, Don't cry. Once again, she felt that pang in her heart. That pang of missing someone's touch, eventhough, there they were, right beside you. His touch.

This was part of her diary. Her every word. At the bottom of the page she wrote "dedicated to you." xo.