I am no stranger to loneliness. 

It lays down next to me at night, mocking my insecurity over anything I can come up with. 

It reminds me that I’m alone.

It spits at my face, and laughs. An enticing laugh, but a dark and disastrous laugh nonetheless. 

I look at it. 

Admire it.

Stare at its features.

Touch the curves that define such a hideous monster. 

Yet I let the monster out of the cage every so often, and I give it the chance to devour, 

consume me. 

Loneliness is a terrible thing. 

It rears its ugly head and screams in my ear-- a dull, constant reminder of the state of my being. 

It takes my hand when I walk down the hall. 

It hugs me when I’m last on the sidewalk, or when no one came to visit. 

It wipes my tears when I weep at night, reminding me of its ever growing presence, and not only that, but my inability to rid my consciousness of the beast. 

I buy it a collar and leash it to my ankle. 

Take it everywhere I go. 

It fastens the leash when it gets loose. 

When can I let go?

How do I let go?

I thought it would leave by itself, but here I am. 

Sitting at the cafe and sipping my tea, watching the world burn around me. 

But at least my pet is safe.

My loneliness is untouched. 

It stays with me. 

Mostly.