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When I am alone, I am not lonely.

When I am lonely, I am not alone.

Hours spent by myself pass like minutes.

Minutes spent in company pass like hours.

Sitting in my home I feel endless.

Standing in a crowd I feel isolated.

Why does it seem like these things are reversed?
I feel like people often assume that you must be alone in order to feel lonely, but that is simply not true. I often find that it is when you are most involved that you feel most alone.
Alfa 3d
666
whispering rain tapping on the window
flooding my ears with sound, fluorescent
light screaming inside my brain, lift
your hands towards me again, you
won’t see me de nuevo. Wilt
beneath the demanding life you’ve beaten,

and maybe your fear will agitate
you, into a comatose state you
had put me in.,and hidden
me away from the world, mauling
innocence out of me with incremental,
unwanted touches that cannot be undone.

from handcuffs on wooden poles, foaming
mouths pouncing on my skin, melting
within myself as you drowned wearisome
unhinged fantasies onto me, and use
children for your pleasure to continue
terrorizing freely while we all trickle.
Abused as a child, here is my testimony about my abuser. Six lines in each stanza, she truly was the devil.
megan Sep 30
i am restricted to this box,
terrified of what people may think.
my throat, my stomach, everything's in knots,
and i am heaving on the brink.
Josh Sep 29
I’ve been thinking,
About life, about me
About, everything,

Things I do, things I say,
Things I think, how I feel,
How I act and how I speak,

And I realise how much
Of lie, I am, I live a lie,
Never being truly honest,

Because I can’t, and I can’t
Even say how sad I am or
How much, I hurt because

I can’t, and who’d care
And I’m scared, and if
I did, If I were to open
Up and say how I truly

Felt all of the time,
It would hurt to much,
It would be too hard,

I can’t get through,
Life,
It’s too hard to do,
Alone,

I give up.
Sorry if this is a bit attention seeky, I’m not going to **** myself soon so if anyone worries, thank you but I’ll survive
Bartholomew Sep 20
Can anyone hear me?
No? Because I’m crying inside
Why does everyone fear me?
But in actuality I’m dying inside
My hearts holds a burden
Of trying to save everyone
I show strength but behind closed curtains
I bare weakness with no one to save me from

Does anyone hear me??
Can someone please answer me
My soul feels so weary
I’ve come to the state of panicking
I surround myself with people who don’t listen
but yet feel like I’m in isolation
Sometimes I feel like I’m in a prison
Though life is the one in violation

Is anyone there?
It's hard to fight when the fight ain't fair,
struggling as you climb the mountain
in an internal uphill battle for something
you never knew what to make of,
lost in the throes of other people's demands
while facing personal demons alone,
people's voices all mingling together
and brushing past your head,
leaving you dazed and isolated
as you can't seem to figure out how to
join in the conversation
and be a part of the flurry of life
happening all around you
because inside you, it never feels like
much is happening,
it's like your capability of perceiving
anything good has been switched off,
like someone violently flicked at it
and beat it in with a hammer
and stomped on it before tossing it into
the back of the memory room, where nothing
is ever remembered or taken back out again
and now when looking through
the lenses of your eyes,
everything is drab and gray, like a discoloring
filter has been applied to make sure you see
things for what they really are,
so that then there's never a chance to
mistake anything for being anything else
that you might have wanted it to be,
so you can remember to always remind yourself
that nothing, and no one, is there for you
and will ever be there for you,
because they are all caught up in the present,
a time when you are utterly insignificant
because one day someone decided to
reach back into the back of your head
and lower your voice and expressions several notches
below silence,
because it was better that way for everyone else's
convenience
they wouldn't have to worry anymore
about hearing your cries of help or anxiousness
of being lost in the throes of other people's decisions
for you
they wouldn't have to hear you
express any doubt or show your real longing
during a time when you were still able to
dream or recall a hazy yet bright idea
of what you wanted to do or study
of the life you might have wanted to make for yourself,
they wouldn't have to take care of you
when you broke down from trying to
dodge expertly concealed insults and recited misfortunes
being hurled at you from all directions
the only kind of pity present in your life
is self-pity and remorse,
self-pity because no one's pity would ever
be enough to accommodate
and remorse because you were never
good enough in the first place
and you know it all too well
and it hurts, that you can't even make things
better for yourself while fighting a fight
that ain't fair
because you don't know how to.
If someone (not that anyone would) ever asked where I was in life

"It's hard to fight when the fight ain't fair" --Taylor Swift (Change)

09/11/18
Amanda Sep 1
What good is a day lived alone?
Wasted, nothing but solitude,
Conversations with dusty flowerpots,
Excuses for a bad mood.

Waiting for someone to stop and chat,
Call, or text, or leave a note,
Pour water down your chimney
To assure you stay afloat.

Don't wallow in self-inflicted seclusion,
Go and discover some company,
Instead of spending this weekday alone
Isolated, bitter, reveling in lonely.
Life is better with friends
micaela drew Aug 25
It’s crazy to realize

No one cares about you

You’re not important

This fact has proven true

You’re not special or different

Friendships formed are simple convenient

They hold no significants or mean anything

Funny. Since we think they mean everything

No one cares about you

Especially your peers

If only you knew

It’d spare you lots of tears

People only care about themselves

as sad as it is to say

You mean nothing.

And neither do they.

-md
5oulPoet Aug 24
Isolated, the prisoner finds freedom
An illusion in this caricature world
Happiness isn’t in the longing of isolation
But to be alone and still remain a clockwork
Sharing the burden of emotions all around
So that in the end when you look behind
You were never the only person alone
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