The hours come first.
Pretending I will heal
Today or tomorrow.
Wounding loneliness.
Days add up.
Seven make a week.
A week alone.
Bitter loneliness.
Weeks pile upon weeks.
Four weeks more
Is another month.
Crushing loneliness.
Months are fragments.
The jigsaw of time
That forms my years.
Burning loneliness.
Please don’t let loneliness win. Go out, meet people, make friends.
Yes, it’s hard. Sure, you have no energy and I know it didn’t work out last time you tried.
It’s still not too late. Do it now. This time it will be different.
Above all, be kind to yourself.
Shona x
