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The Fragility of Loneliness
A ruinous place. Unable to be named. The silent persecution inside, persisted in the form of mental torture; the daily routine of mirror goading. A dark place. Sitting in a room at night, feeling eternity. Invisible. Being in a setting, yet unseen. It’s like navigation upon a path without any guidance. When will it end? You are meant to suffer it tells one. Alone.
I espy loneliness as unnatural; human beings crave relations, companions, liable sources to edify. Support. It is fear; there is diminished freedom inside it, none, as one tremble to the aura among. Loneliness is anxiety; perturbation as its sibling, uncertainty, its friend. Endless wonder of endless wondering. Cold with no hope for a source of warmth, but unbearable heat.
A paradox.
Deep drowning in the ocean, the mind thinking “Hopeless”. A crowd of people, swallowing the thought that your existence is insignificant; believing that one is meaningless to anyone and anything. A tragedy, a heartbreak some may say, hardship upon hurt. It is being covered in open wounds to never heal. It is a shame.
Have you marveled, what lonely has versed you each time it vanishes? That feeling, taking an unwanted vacation to you as its destination. You are used. Subconsciously sensed, yet not pondered in the very front of your eyes. When it disappears, you are suddenly not…
