These days are the loneliest.
Minutes, hours, days go by
taking longer, much longer than they should.
The better I feel within myself,
and the more I see and know about me,
this world, and how it all works,
the more invisible I become to the outside,
sometimes even literally.

Too true to be seen.

If this is the case,
I should not feel lonely, right?
I don’t know what it is.
Well… I do know.
The heart.
The longing for companionship,
sharing, pouring into one another.

Many have revealed themselves
in a short period of time,
all of them together,
left,
like a cleanse that was meant to happen,
but fortunately new people have appeared,
and also some oldies have proven to be legit.
For this, I’m grateful.
I can count on them.

I can pour my heart open, excitedly and intensely,
and they receive me, welcome me,
they don’t judge me or push me away.
But they also have their own lives, you know?
I can’t be with them at all times,
and I long for that with my own man,
my own nest,
who is nowhere to be seen.

I only get approached
by those I do not feel anything for.
I could not be with them,
not even as a passtime,
as it makes me feel even worse.

More often than not,
I don’t know what to do with time.
Everything is a chore,
too much lonesomeship.
I just wanna be, not do.

Wrapped up in the warmth and truth of the earth.

The land.

Not even my passions,
I don’t recognise what they are anymore.
It all has been erased,
replaced by the memories of times gone.

As long as being doesn’t become a chore,
and as long as I continue to dream,
I shall be fine.