Lonesome

When it comes to feeling lonesome,
I’m thoroughly exasperated.
Listlessly living dusk ‘til dawn,
Each day is harder than the last.

It wasn’t always like this;
Now it seems nothing will change,
And I’ll remain alone,
Until my soul leaves this rock.

Tears have fallen and since dried up,
Nobody seems to notice.
Tears seem to solve nothing,
When you’re alone.

Yearning for what burns no longer;
And will never ignite again,
Accomplishes absolutely nothing.
But I can’t help but yearn.

Long ago I admired the life of a hermit,
Living chaste, isolated, cynical, underground.
But then I was given a taste of the sweetest nectar.
Only to have my tongue violently severed.
Now I’ll taste nevermore.

The brilliant tapestry that I had grown accustomed to,
The crutch that gave me strength,
The ever-present smile that brought overwhelming joy,
Was abruptly yanked from beneath me.

Freefalling, I landed with a horrifying thud.
Now I have scars that will never heal,
Scars that manifest with complete invisibility,
Scars that leave my soul monstrously disfigured.

So, when it comes to feeling lonesome,
I fear that I’m an expert,
Vigilantly yearning, all the day through.
Each day is more mirthless than the last.