DECREPIT DIVINITY

three am

loneliness presents herself as an enigma carved with ten thousand facets. rarely does she show the same face again, but you can surely recognize it at first sight. it could be your own sunken cheeks mirrored perfectly in the worn lines painted across another's forehead, or the impetuous sigh rolling in between the frozen breaths the person beside you delivers.

she is often hidden behind her other bodies, presenting red herrings that gleamed chrome under hungry gazes. she disguises herself when she is only meant to be seen between moonbeams reflected onto tears; loneliness often speaks in languages foreign to those who cannot recognize it.

(does this mean everyone learns to be lonely differently?)

perhaps she shall show herself in another light today: in between the notes of your favourite song, or the empty spaces that encompass the valleys of your fingers. or maybe tonight she will wedge herself between your lips and your lover's. loneliness is a phantom that betrays the heart and imprisons the mind, yet will soothe the cold of your skin.

(if you feel her fingers wrapped around your neck, are you truly lonely?)

sometimes people call out to her. it is a surprising thing, to be so razor sharp in her approach, yet still wanted. is this what they call love? she comes anyway, perching in the ridges lining still-warm palms that reach out to a retreating figure. she knows self-destruction when she sees it, and in all her cold glory, she tries her best to provide comfort.

it's in times like these that she hates her nature. loneliness, in her opinion, is not meant to be inflicted on oneself. little by little, she feels strands of a soul being handed over to her possession. take it. it says in thick letters. she does not want to, to receive more than what can be given, but she cannot refuse. and so she does what she can and settles against hunched shoulders, hoping vainly, that she may stopper the gaping hole in the heart that beats negative. she is sucked through anyways.

(loneliness does not cure itself, but becomes worse, after all.)

she often arrives hand-in-hand with isolation, but she works best pressed between bodies. loneliness is born from fleeting contact, and festers in the knowledge of it. and so she raises her tear-streaked knives and twists them into gaping wounds. these are her worst moments, to be dancing her ugly song where it is most unwanted.

(being lonely in another's presence implies things no one wants to hear. )

but the thing she desires most,
is to be unwanted.

she knows that it is inevitable, but to be favoured in the presence of another reminds her too much of herself. it is better to be involuntarily isolated from others, she thinks.

but she does not understand. too many have suffered from feeling unwanted that they know it is better to remove themselves. cruelty has birthed loneliness, after all, and she has taken hold of many hearts already. despondent reluctance has driven others to seek her, even if they do not want to.

sweet solitude, the pain you bring is far from irrevocable. come as you please, but never forget to leave.