What's it like to be lonely?

"What's it like to be lonely?" Said the man to the mirror.

Does the mirror know? Does the mirror understand. So many of us, talk to the mirror. Are we trying to ask ourselves for the answers? Or is the mirror something else. Is the mirror more than a way to see into ones self. But, to see one's opposite. To see ones Doppelgänger.
Maybe a mirror isn't a reflection.
Maybe it's a omen of death.

I see things.

"Some sort of dream.
Where I'm seeing things.
Faces in the dark.
Faces on these walls.
Hold me tight,
Strangle me, tonight.

Whispers in the wind,
Echoing through my mind.
Faces in my eyes.
Hold me tight.

Static on glass.
And sunlight cutting past.
Faces in the clouds,
In the wires.
Faces on the walls,
Some sort of dream,
Now I can't stop seeing things. "

http://poem.mibba.com/66859/Faces

I've always understood death. When I nearly drowned though, that was when I stopped being afraid of death. True death, true impending death, it's. Amazing. Peaceful. Everything you could want.
But now, when I feel close to danger, to what some may call a "Near death experience" I know in my heart that it's not death. It's fear. It's pain, suffering. There's no pain in death. Pain exists before death. Death is beautiful.

If so, these things I see.
Could they be a shadow of myself, a reflection, foresight. Maybe a glimpse into hell.
But it makes me so afraid.
And that makes it not death. That makes it worse than death.

I just want peace.
I just want for what I'm meant to do, to be done.
But, I know, I believe, that, what I'm meant to do, can never really be done.
I'll never find peace.
I'll end up in damnation.

I sometimes wish I didn't have to do everything alone.
I sometimes wish I had someone who I could forget about everything for, if only for a brief moment.
But, I'll always want that feeling of death. Of total peace. Of beauty.
I'm so afraid that I can't die.