Lonely

You are lonely.

But not the kind that everyone romanticizes
Where you roam around as
A beautiful stranger
Sticking to yourself, drinking sweet coffees and reading books

You’re mysterious and gently noticed by others
Even if’s within the quick moment where you and another stranger pass by and glance at each other

The kind of lonely we are is not this

It’s the kind that makes people stare at you as if they already know what you are- a loser

It’s the kind that causes you binge eat in your room because it keeps you company
It’s the kind that avoids showering because why bother; no one will get close enough to you.

Close enough to smell you.

It’s the kind that resembles solitary
Not the word but the place where they place prisoners as punishment
You are forced here, cause unlike the mysterious stranger lonely is not a choice

You wonder why you are like this, who or what has punished you so severely

Or even how those who are able to choose loneliness experience a fraction of this life

How does mysterious stranger mange their loneliness and their thoughts?

As this kind of loneliness eats away at people.

At me.

It festers up thoughts and ideas that just might cripple you
The kind of thoughts that make you wonder if it’s all worth it and what would happen if you did it.

I envy the mysterious stranger.