Generic

Perhaps it is normal,
to feel lonely —
life’s usual silence pressing in.
To grieve in it
is only to admit we are human.
To drown in it
is to punish ourselves
for sins we have not done.

Loneliness shadows the single,
watching peers find love,
their names called often.
But lonelier still,
to sit in company
and feel unseen,
to wish for solitude instead.

Loneliness sharpens in failure,
when everyone seems miles ahead.
Yet it lingers at the peaks of success,
where applause dies
and no one remains.

Perhaps it is loneliness itself speaking —
offering reasons to cope,
pretending its weight is ordinary,
while whispering beneath
that it is not.
And with small, fleeting comforts,
the moments pass —
but the ache does not.
And every word, every memory, every voice,
stings sharp, though it should not.