one thing no one is told is that loneliness is like a blanket, at first comforting and sweet. you convince yourself you're better off on your own and you don't need anyone.
then it slowly creeps up on you, like the frosty winter morning bites, it slowly attacks you. you shrug it off, thinking its nothing- it can't be.
then its 3am and you find yourself crying into the early hours of the morning, it was nothing right? what happened?
you see the thing about loneliness is that it's an illness like no other, it's dormant and you convince yourself its gone, until it attacks you like cancer and you forget who you are.
it distorts and buries your sense of her until it kills you.
YOU ARE READING
tha plague of my existence
Poetrydoes the heart know whence loneliness spreads like the plague, attacking its very beat?
