I feel lonely in the way that creeps under a closed door in the middle of the night and wraps around you as you sleep.
A way that you wake up with in the morning when the sun still hasn't risen.
Somehow the tears aren't spilling down your cheek, but you know they're there.
No one else can see them.

I feel lonely in the way that wraps it's fingers around your throat in a crowded room.
Like when it's your birthday and you know everyone is there for you, but you can't accept that truth.
Your only thought is that everyone is fake, and you too must shine a false smile for this fictional scene.
No one knows the difference.

I feel lonely in the way when you look deep into a mirror.
The eyes staring back at you appear to be nothing but black holes. They are not connected to a body. You have no way of knowing if you exist or not. You touch your face, your hair. You smile, laugh.
You don't know yourself anymore.

I feel lonely in the way a heart stops beating. Like the feeling inside my chest. When every beat feels sharp from the excruciating pain it takes to keep breathing.
The thought that everyone in this world, including yourself is fictitious. A world you made up in your head. And if you were dead?
A dream is just a memory after all.