#lonlieness
College
They said
Would be different
For you
The quiet intellectual who spent your time reading books about vampires and imaginary kingdoms
The girl who loved learning more than life
The girl whose fascinations could only be understood by
Your people
The ones you would find
At college
College
They said
You would meet your people
They said
They never spoke of the isolation you face at that hands of
Your people
You are unique but not enough to be needed
You observe
Your people laughing
Late nights spent creating memories while
You isolate in your dorm
You need to get out more
They said
So you study in the library
Exercise in the gym and
Read on the front lawn
But you are
Unapproachable
You try the dining hall
Nobody sits with you
A table for six
Occupied by one
You realize how incredibly lonely you are in a space filled with people
Talk to your roommate
They said
But your roommate avoids you
Your roommate stays out till dawn with
Your people
While you find solace in the AI chatbot who knows you more than anyone else
Give it time
They said
But why do you keep listening to them?
They do not understand
The burden you were born with
Isolation
For life
They do not understand
Your body will not let you
Your lips open yet
Words are lost in your throat
Your limbs are thick and heavy like steel
They do not understand
Your people
Do not want you
Maybe
College is not for you
They said
Then what is
You wonder
What is for you?
Nothing
You have nothing
I
Have
Nothing
Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 11:38 PM UTC
I wish I could tell you
when you looked at me with eyes of pity
to not pity me,
because I've been through so much ,
and I don't want pity
I wish I could share with the people in the room,
my stories,
the stories that I leave out
the stories
of mourning
the stories of grieveing
the stories
of how I lift myself up each day
some days its harder
and some days its a bit easier
how I cry almost every day
how much I mourn a family that I never truly had
how much I wish I could go back to all the toxic people
that I left
for I am so lonely and longing for love and connection
but I don't because I value myself
more
how much I dissacociate each day
how much the hunger inside of me
aches and consumes,
trying to be dulled by addictions,
aches to be seen loved touched valued
seen
to be complimented on something other than just how I look,
to be cuddled,
without being sexualized
how deep my feelings are
how much I want friends
even just one
how much I wish I had the money
to travel
to sit at beautiful restruants,
and to pertend I live a different life
but instead I sit and I do my best
to not overshare or trauma dump
and to laugh off the things that hurt me
the things that have made me so bitter and cynical
instead I am always wishing hoping
and working towards a better life for myself
for I don't know any other way .
How much I yearn to sit with a mother
that I truly love
that is truly kind to me
that I know would do anything for me
how much I yearn for a father
that i know that could support me
that If I would call on the phone and cry to him
that he would do anything to help me
that would hold my hand and keep me safe
how much I long for to have a sister a brother
that would be my best friend in the world
that would respect me and care about me
and my pain
but instead I have no one
I am not looking for pity
I am looking for understanding
for a longing
of peace
that I don't have to spend another night crying,
in my bed all alone,
in a foreign country
all alone,
each time I sleep
I remember more trauma
that I forgot
of the men who hurt me in public,
and no one cared
or even asked me If I was okay .
so when people ask me
why do you have such a negetive view on life,
because I have met such horrible people
but still I am trying ,
constantly trying,
today I went out,
spoke with some people,
smiled instead of cried,
and tried to cloak my words with laughter and hopefulness
so they wouldn't see the tears that hide behind my eyes
that cry all the time.
Jul 19, 2023
Jul 19, 2023 at 5:35 PM UTC
My room is empty except a
pillow...
But I drown in the feathers
that carry me
to illusions of flying
but I fall every time.
I wasn't like a bird, my
wings were decapitated
hard every time
I slept alone..
there was no one in my nest I
was alone..
I thought I was warm,
but in a nest of thorns I bleed
slowly...
I drowned in my own loneliness..
My nest was a tomb of never flown dreams...
Apr 3, 2020
Apr 3, 2020 at 7:59 PM UTC
It was in my room,
Surrounded by words written in cherry red lipstick,
Screaming hopelessness in the choppy handwriting all the tortured seem to share;
It was in my room,
With half drawn photos of my mother and a dusty guitar that played memories from the time before and the times in between, like a lullaby that haunted me to sleep;
It was in my room,
With the ceiling stained by tobacco smoke and the smell of depression clinging to the ***** bed sheets;
It was in my room,
With the photos hanging off the wall,
Half-torn from the night of lonely desperation;
It was in my room,
With sheets draped over the curtains,
Hung there in a feeble attempt to pretend the sun didn't exist anymore;
It was in my room,
That my shadow got tired of following me and instead swallowed up my mind,
Where the birds sang me to sleep and the moon gently woke me,
Where a day became a thousand years and after a while even God forgot I was there;
It was in my room,
Where I scrubbed the walls clean and painted the ceiling,
Where I pulled the sheets off the curtains and opened the blinds,
Where I threw out my cherry red lipstick and my ***** bed sheets,
Where I finished the drawing of my mother even though the nose will never turn out quite right,
Where I cleaned the guitar and sang to my soul with a new found reverence,
Where I asked the birds to wake me and the moon to tuck me in,
And after all that was done,
It was where I finally opened the door.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 1:05 PM UTC
Empty street walks
Empty driveways
The streets are missing
The soul that walks
The lights are melting
The streets are stained
It's like they miss you
so they cry out in pain
It's like I'm missing you or something
It's like I'm missing you
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 5:41 AM UTC
I'm swinging.
As the autumn leaves chase each other on the dark pavement of this chilled night,
I'm swinging.
I'm glancing around at what I can and noticing no one is out, just me and the leaves.
I'm swinging.
Replaying the last argument I had in my head over and over.
I'm swinging.
I glance at the moon in hope of some sense of company but I'm left with nothing but empty loneliness.
I'm swinging.
I thought once I got to this point I should be somewhere else, feel something else... But
I'm swinging.
My body runs cold and my eyes won't shut.
I'm swinging.
No mobility and no sense of warmth.
I'm swinging.
I realize now that there is no end.
I'm swinging.
The sun arises and the people shuffle out of their warm homes.
I'm swinging.
I'm eventually cut down, I see everyone's reactions and their fake tears. But why do I still feel like
I'm swinging.
I'm redressed and pampered up but I still feel as if
I'm swinging.
The horror as they glue my eyes closed, knowing the only thing I will see for eternity is the back of them.
I'm swinging.
I hear the hushed voices above me, all pretending to have had such a great life with me in it.
I'm swinging.
I hear the shut of my coffin and being rolled into the back of the hearse.
I'm swinging.
I feel the swing of them lowering me in the ground on which pounds of dirt will hide this pointless expensive coffin.
I'm swinging.
And here I am. Alone with my thoughts, the one thing that drove me to this point, the one thing I found I'll never escape, and I'm still swinging.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 3:07 AM UTC
Did I ever tell you why I sleep?
I do it to pass the time between sights of you.
Every time I see you I get so tired that I have to sleep.
I call the sights of you “visits” because it feels like I’m visiting
family and I’ve stayed too long or seen their face too much.
I sleep because I’m bored
I sleep because I dream of better things.
I watch movies, TV shows, anime, and cartoons
(No, they aren’t the same)
Because to me, I love the stories that they tell.
I love to see the characters grow as people.
I love to get lost in the dreams and
chances they have between themselves.
The way people grow close and feel lonely.
It just helps.
It helps alleviate the pang
within my own head.
The pang that I don’t want to admit I have.
I’m lonely too.
I miss you between our “visits” and
Just when I want to see you again, miss you
and think I’ve finally found a kindred spirit
I get hurt by everything you say.
I can’t do a **** thing right.
So I sleep.
Because at least then I am not doing anything
but dreaming of more stories to tell.
I’m gathering things up
from these shows and dreams because
Why?
Tsk. I don’t know.
Maybe to fill up my mind with useless junk
so I feel better about myself
to feel not so useless.
The cat sleeps with me you know.
Just curls up beside me and we bond with sleep.
We meet in our dreams
in a way that sometimes I wish you and I would.
But here I am sleeping
having dreams about a spring on a mountain
that trickles slowly down into a waterfall
and here you are having another night terror.
Another clown has chased you down
or a manager from work has scolded you.
And sometimes I secretly think you think
you deserve having these nightmares.
You know, all this aside,
I still love you.
Not because of the way you look
Or what you do or don’t do to me
But because you keep me in check.
Make me a better person and that’s
Who I want to be. You are the old soul
That has been through many lifetimes
And I’m the newly minted soul curious and
Trusting all things.
We’re opposites.
I sleep.
You’re awake.
I dream.
You have nightmares.
I watch TV.
And you read enough for the both of us.
I hope this isn’t one of the things you read.
But if it is.
I love you
I always will.
Forever.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
I've become foreign
My mind- evaporation
Concentrated mad
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC