It’s fucking gone.
I want to write.
About something.
About anything.
I can’t.
Over several weeks – I can’t.
Please help.
Give it back.

I sit in Starbucks crying.
Crying for it.
I need it.
It’s all I have.
It’s how I get out of my brain.
Coffee and tablets assisting.

Life has been falling apart.
Is falling.
Continues to fall.
And I sit
Tablet at the ready.
Thoughts absent.

I’m so broken.
Life is so fucked up
And I have no outlet.
What do I do now.
I cry in Starbucks.
I cry.
And I cry.
The woman opposite me must be wondering.
Has she lost her job?
Did she break up with her boyfriend?
Her girlfriend?
Did her dog die?
None of those dear lady.
None of those.

You can’t help me.
Strangers rarely offer help.
I had hoped she would.
I wanted her to offer me a hug.
Is that weird?
I need a hug.
I am in this comfort zone
That is giving me no comfort.
Is it so weird
To want the touch of a stranger?
A bizarre desire.
I need it so badly.
I see my therapist.
I cannot be hugged by him.
Be cared for.
He will care for me with words.
Do you think I can walk down Michigan
Asking for hugs?
Would someone finally oblige?
Everyone else thinking I’m a freak?
Screw them.
But I would not hug a stranger.
So I am them.
I am a ‘Screw them’.

My mind is brought
To those people with their cardboard signs.
“Free hugs”
I have only seen one once in person
But on TV many.
Why can’t one of them walk by?
“Yes please” is the answer.

I can’t hug anyone.
I love my kids.
I hug my kids.
There is something about a hug from another adult.
Even if they are unknown.
They empathize.
Even when not knowing what is wrong.
That changes everything.
It is an “I know how it feels to need a hug.”
“I know how is is to feel broken.”
“I know how those flooding tears feel.”
“I know, I know, I know.”
And you know they know.

And so I seek love in the arms of a man.
An unknown man.
It is better than no one.
Sometimes it is actually comforting.
Not false.
A decent human being.
Be one.
For a short time.
Better than for no time.
But all the bad.
All the assholes.
All the selfish dicks.
Is it worth it?
I keep going back.
Does that mean the bad is worth it?
Or am I so fucked up?
Am I craving connection so much I keep failing myself?
It is not worth it.
But another good one appears again.
Then it is.

They’re all the same.
Some are gone.
Maybe for good.
Fucks remain.
Fuck fucking fucks.

Those 3,664 miles away.
They would hug me.
Arms don’t stretch that far.
No matter how much love exists.
I am out of reach.
As are they.
No one.

Have I abandoned all those who cared?
Have I left my home too hastily?
It doesn’t really matter now.
I was outgoing.
I had very few friends.
I always had a fucked up life.
And now I reap that emptiness.
The same is true in this strange land.
It doesn’t really matter now.
I am a ship.
There is no harbor.
I feel I can’t take anymore.
But that is not true.
I see those on the street.
In Chicago.
In the winter.
If they can survive I can too.
Do they hug each other?
They are better than me.
Never look down on them.
Maybe they need a hug too.

I hug myself.
My arms reach my shoulders.
It is not enough.
A reminder of less.
Of nothing.
No love.
Imagined or real.
And I am worse than before.

I don’t know how to run.
I try to run to.
I don’t know to where I run.
If I did I believe there would be nothing there.
I run away.
It is what I always do.
It feels better.
For a while.
A short while.
And then the pain is worse.
Anything I had is gone.

It seems so easy as as child.
You run.
You play.
You laugh.
Mam is waiting at home.
A hug.
Some love.
It changes.
You don’t notice.
Suddenly you do.
Too late.
You are lonely.
You are empty.
You are lost.

What is the solution?
Is there a solution?
Does it matter?
Will you find it in time?
What is ‘in time’?
I am seeking.
Grabbing at the air.
Hoping beyond hope.
It is just out of reach.
It is miles away.

And so lost one.
What will you do?
Will you wrap yourself in nothing?
Will you build a life?
A life worth living?
Will you cry?
Will you grow angry?
Blame those who have
While you have not?
It all remains to be seen
For this is a life
That changes all the time.
We grow and change.
As do those around us.
You can blossom.
You can grow.
You can shrivel.
You can die.
You decide.
No one can fix this but you.
One life to live my love.
One life.
And then we all shrivel and die.

4 thoughts on “Lonely

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