The Good place

Thoughts when someone cries on your shoulder

What goes through your mind when someone cries on your shoulder but doesn't tell you why?:

Was she harassed?
Or just embarrassed?
Should I try to console her?
Am I stinking?
Or over-thinking?
Should I really be fantasizing a life together! ?

Should I try to be protective?
Or a detective?
Or a self-respecting illustrative?
Attentive?
An all party representative?
Or is today the day for palliative?
Creative?
Fundamentally authoritative?
Isn't a simple hug intrinsically convective?

Should I try to be pragmatic?
Or enigmatic?
Or a philosophically scholastic?
Arithmetic?
Pedantic?
Prepare (or produce) a respective statistic?
Ballistic?
Ecstatically energetic?
Or straight-up sadistic?

Why are they staring?
My internal alarms blaring?
Do they think this is phony?
Or is this a romantic gesture and my shoulder bone's, well, boney?

"Is this a volcanic eruption?
Or do you owe a debt to the grave?
Was a line left in abruption?
Is there nothing left to save?"

What is it actually about?:

"The soulfull beast called time.
Thriving on dread. Mocking in mime.
An arm is around you, the other carries a knife.
The only one who works in mysterious ways, this Adjucator of life.
The bouts of escapes, if you attempt to fly.
He will hold you in contempt."
(Screams at the sky)

"No one asked you for a free soak.
Why in the wet heavens did you rain down my last smoke?"