I live with loneliness.
It’s a loneliness that crawls over me. It gets into my head and makes me doubt whether I am good enough.
It attaches itself to my most personal parts and tempts me in ways that make me feel ashamed.
It follows me like a bastard shadow, and trips me up as it kicks my feet.
I try to navigate my way through, but it is an endless labyrinth of stone with sharp corners and walls covered in rotting ivy.
Sometimes I can hear it. It’s a low static thumping that keeps me awake at night and clouds my mind during the day. It whispers words that punch deep and bruise me dark.
I don’t know if it will ever leave, I don’t if I will ever get used to it.
So, I live with loneliness.




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