What is loneliness, really?

You can be surrounded
by hundreds in the city
and still feel all alone.

By yourself be and yet
a sweet memory sustains you
When everyone is gone.

What defines that odd space
so empty yet so heavy
in the proverbial middle
of your being, of your soul?

What is the ellusive nature
of the hungry black hole
threatening to swallow
the very light of your core?

Quantum physics be damned!
One day you feel connected.
The next you are so lost.

The figments of my essence
of fickle fibers, they are made.
To have them be permanent
I haven’t found a way.

Yes, of them I am a puppet
forever I must run.

There and back; forever struggling,
to find and patch the gaps.

Perhaps one day, perhaps,
I will remain connected
I will remain attached.

And loneliness will be
but a thing of the past.

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