The plight of the forgotten

Sometimes I'm afraid of the darkness. the night conceals too much. but it doesn't numb the lonely.

do you ever breathe, yet your lungs remain empty and void?

the song on my lips is dry, the bird at my window flown south
and i can't remember the tune it used to hum.

friends, yes, they can be our truest source of who we are, and our value. yet they can sting at the core of our being and create doubt and misunderstanding in our minds.
i continually chose friends who are stronger than i. and they continually break my heart.
two of my best friends are so distant and silent it feels like the whole world has turned away with only a back to comfort my pain.

i keep me private and only exposed to the closest of companions. and while i am still single and yet to discover companionship, i allow fragments of my heart to be heard by these two girls, sisters i chose myself.

i am discovering that, like in high school, guys do come and go. they walk in and out according to their whims and desires, and pecker. one day, one will stay around, and pursue me longer than coffee. but until then, i have no one but my friends.

loneliness. it embodies a sphere and spectrum much greater than we give reference or credit to. in its essence, it is an oxymoron, for in loneliness, everyone sits at one point. so why is, that while unified by this common social disposition, that we all find ourselves staring bleakly at each face.

i don't say much. but i watch. and wait. and a silent tear escapes the corner of my eye, bearing the heartbreak beneath the ivory skin of fading summer.