Happy 18th Month?

EIGHTEEN MONTHS (and I'd like to stop counting...)

How do you fan the embers of a dying love
So it'll burst into the big flame that it was before?
How do you ask for light
So you're not afraid to walk in the dark?

Where are the arms that held me close
And which had kept me warm all along?
Where is the shelter that I have found before
That which kept me from this storm?

Where are the lips that I kissed
Soft, warm, tender bliss?
Where is the love you once promised
Gone, and it's missed

The trouble with being lonely:
It's not what you can share with anybody
Because no one wants to be alone
When everything is said and done.