Silverfish

On the Outside

Longing for someone is a painful desire.

Why am I not afraid of it anymore? Why must I–all of a sudden–now remain open and vulnerable?

I feel their pain roll over me, crashing at every side with a valiant force like autumn storms tapping against metal tin roofs.

It sinks deep into my chest and interrupts every daydream I so desperately wish to take.

The comforting nostalgia I once leant up against crumbles into ancient ruins at my feet.

I feel alone.

How do I end this suffering?

I will stand back up yes and I will not dare go back but the feeling still lingers; the empty space is still there.

Will I fill it on my own with time or must I wait until I can ignore it again?

It seems disingenuous but maybe I deserve it?