loneliness is a place i am terrified
of getting used to but have been
living in it for as long as i can
remember.

it is a house that doesn’t feel like
home; the only lit streetlight in
an abandoned city; the twinkling
star in the vast night sky; the last
note of a song but one that’s fading
away; the room with a bed that
hasn’t been slept in ever since
a lover was lost in the war.

the echoes of laughter of what once;
the lingering touch of our fingers
after our hands had let go;
the wallflower sitting quietly
in the corner of a party.

it is all of these things at once;
but i think, most of all, loneliness
is a friend who i so desperately
want to get rid of—and i do,
at times—yet she’s always there;
waiting for me to take her back.