Loneliness is more than a feeling--

This is a little over a week old. But it feels truer tonight than when I wrote it. So... Oh, I don't know. I've been writing a new short story. Science fiction. A nameless lunatic finds redemption in words. More or less. I don't know. I don't like it. I'm crying. Why? I think I must be bipolar. Or severely hormonal. Oh well. I meant to post the poem. That's the point, right?

Loneliness is more than a feeling—

More than a drop in serotonin,

More than the dark winter light,

More than the silence of a crowd,

More than the simple nothing.

Loneliness is the lack of a simple nothing—

Where all the lies crumble away

And we see ourselves for who we truly are.

Loneliness is the emptiness of the soul—

When we stand in front of an antique mirror,

With tears sparkling in our eyes,

And see that we are truly alone.

Loneliness is the claustrophobia—

That comes to our untouched skin

When we remember those psychology articles

About the human need for touch.

Loneliness is the irony—

Of the machine turning itself to a fetus

When we see that we are all too human

And that loneliness is so much more than a feeling—

Loneliness is a noun.