The walls feel cold and dark,
there is light coming in,
just not in my heart.
Aching for a re-start,
I tremble in the thought of movement.
There are people close, I see them,
in the distance unreachable,
untouchable, dreaming of company,
arousal of the senses, of life.
Scared to be lonely,
scared to be with you.
In a crowd the silence is haunting,
the ignorance is deceiving.
Why do I feel the hate not the love.
Not knowing any other pain like it,
a bleeding heart, separates all apart.
Continuous frightened fear,
of nothing but life.
It’s interactions, rewards and downfalls,
is it wise to be lonely, am I really living.
Memories are not made from stillness,
nor fears set aside, what is, will be.
Guessing the choice is mine,
how I feel, how I react.
If I see the love or the hate.
I’ve decided loneliness is not for me. – Ian Scott