vi. CONVERSATIONS WITH LONELINESS.
sit at a table, mess of unwashed dishes stacked behind you, drink old liquor, feel it burn the back of your throat, set fire in the acid your stomach holds. don't stop until the bottom of the glass bottle stares back at you, coldly, without hesitation. look at your reflection with disgust, pick up your phone and realize just how alone you have become. drunk texts aren't going to solve this, instead you call. you hit what you think their contact is, ignore that they didn't bother to pick up, curse every other word until you're left so empty that you don't know what even is going on anymore. throw the bottle to the floor, watch it smash to pieces. feel your heart do the same in the deep dark depths of your chest. watch your tears well up in the broken parts, your face distorted, but you still are searching for hope. feel the ghost of them sit at the end of the table, don't talk, but cry your words out until there is nothing left.
suddenly, loneliness is the only comfort you have left.
061618 : highly inspired by
dandelion hands album
it's all in your head.
YOU ARE READING
what tomorrow brings.
Poetryxvii, april. (iii). you have no voice if no one is listening. © playlist poetry h.r. : #3
