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Written From the Depths of Solitude
I Exist Here, But I Can’t Find Myself
A Poem for Everyone Drowning Quietly
You are alone. We are alone.
Not because loneliness chose you
but because somewhere along the way,
you chose it back,
mistook its cold hand for company,
and let it move into the house
where your heart used to live.
We don’t always feel it happening.
That’s the quiet cruelty of it.
Loneliness doesn’t announce itself -
it doesn’t knock,
it doesn’t ask permission.
It simply sits beside you,
speaks in a language only your bones understand,
and slowly, silently,
it begins to cut —
not loud enough to notice,
just deep enough to never fully heal.
Some people are lucky.
They have someone.
A hand that reaches back when they reach out.
A voice that says I’m here
and means it.
They walk through the world
tethered to another soul,
and loneliness simply cannot find
a doorway in.
