Four years of lonely until I learned how to be alone-
How to separate each part of the world,
The plants from the pavement and the bugs from the dirt
The sounds of the people and the hum of the bass,
The stillness of air and the smell of the rain
Until I am not lonely at all

Because loneliness,
The kind that aches in your fingers and buzzes in your mind
the kind that creeps out when you are surrounded by people you love
The kind that makes things cloudy and never weeps
That hurts worse than skinned knees on sunny days and heals much slower

I can't describe the way it feels to wake up smiling for the first time in four years,
But all the colors and sounds hang in the sky as different pieces, tangible and vibrant
And they find a home with each breath you take

At 5 am, the rest of the world will be warm while you walk
Every step you take will mean something,
And every minute is both rebellion and relief

You will be in love with living,
And in love with being alone
And you will be the sunshine you craved in the darkest of days

And you, you will be achingly solitary, and yet never less lonely.