Loneliness—
so often mistaken for voids—
is an unsteady hurricane
which breaks forth in the hollow of your chest.
Then occasionally,
it flares out—
your heart shakes
in an uncanny ache,
your lungs tighten,
the air's heavier,
your eyes a doorway
through which rain gushes out,
your head spins
with hopeless dreams.
And you poured it all into the abyss,
hoping it would slow down,
yet it comes back
again and again
until your eyes
have finally been read.
May 14
May 14, 2026 at 1:40 PM UTC
Loneliness—
so often mistaken for voids—
is an unsteady hurricane
which breaks forth in the hollow of your chest.
Then occasionally,
it flares out—
your heart shakes
in an uncanny ache,
your lungs tighten,
the air's heavier,
your eyes a doorway
through which rain gushes out,
your head spins
with hopeless dreams.
And you poured it all into the abyss,
hoping it would slow down,
yet it comes back
again and again
until your eyes
have finally been read.
until the purpose of tears has been served: to be seen
