I find myself here again,

in this familiar place

known as Loneliness.

I read a poem about a little girl

surviving in a violent world

and I am told that we are all here,

together, in Loneliness.

I am told that

I am not alone in Loneliness,

but that everyone I’ve ever known,

everyone that’s ever lived,

has made a home in Loneliness.

I watch the news

and I am told that we are not alone,

that I am not alone,

that no one is alone—

I do not believe it, I cannot believe it.

Everyone who’s ever lived, and yet here I am,

alone, in my loneliness.

Am I so terribly alone, so violently alone—

Am I so painfully alone, so wretchedly alone,

that even the Lonely have no place for me?

Here I am in Loneliness,

not a soul in sight,

everyone who has ever lived

has walked these streets of emptiness,

But here I stand;

alone in my loneliness tonight.