Web of Loneliness Poems

Poems of the Lonely

Tag Archives: fear

Here I am

Justin Swerdloff

 

 

A tight room,

Four walls,

A ceiling,
And a floor.

No windows,

No furniture,

Not even a door.

Basking in darkness,

Ignoring the pain.

It’s been so long,

But I’m home again.

Shadows whisper to each other,

They call me their brother.

It’s been so long

Since I’ve been here,

So long,

Since I’ve let go of fear.

The doubts slip away

As I embrace the shade.

I let myself go,

And everything starts to fade.

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More Poems by Math

NEVER AGAIN
When the sun goes down, the light goes out and the darkness creeps within. When Love’s not around, Fear whispers in my ear, “it’s never coming back again.”
Amidst the overwhelming blue seeping through every orifice in sight, floats a small, round clock. First enters the questions, “Where am I? What happened to me? How did I get here? What do I do now?” My mind wanders through countless theories searching for the logical reasoning behind it all. Simultaneously, everything gets blurry and the muscles in my face start to tingle. Then, a quick realization of the situation at hand…I’m drowning. Bursting out of the deep blue, I land on the small, round clock and struggle to regulate the oxygen rushing into my lungs. Now lying on the clock, I stare up at the monotonous fields of gray sky. I’ve escaped one death only to lose myself to another.
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– comments pertaining to NEVER AGAIN: I wrote this after leaving a relationship that was not going very well. It’s about a realization that my dependency for the love of another means that by leaving a relationship that was causing negative emotion for the unknown depths of loneliness is a tough situation.
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MISERY’S DRUDGE
I often wondered how I managed to live a life so immensely rife with strife until the day I realized whose hand it was holding the knife. With every step, I felt it piercing my spine and causing a mental decline as if the wielder made it a point to confine my mind. I tried to defy the pain by claiming my spirit will never die and not once did I ever apply the idea that it was all just a lie to try to deny the truth from my own eye. I was not strong enough to accept that it was I all along who had been in the wrong. There’s a certain picture I’ve been painting over time, hoping to wipe off all the sludge and grime so that I may finally let go of a grudge and reach a moment so sublime. But now it seems I must eternally climb the highest mountains and trudge through slime as Misery’s drudge to pay for my crime.
.
– comments pertaining to MISERY’S DRUDGE: I wrote this recently, when realizing that I was over-reacting about something because I constantly over-analyze everything. It’s about how I am the only one who consistently and effectively makes my own life harder to emotionally handle.

Poems by Math

Letter to LOVE

Dear LOVE,

Of all the emotions expressed by the living entities in this world,
you are by far the most influential. My very evolution is in thanks to
you. You are the blood in my veins, the signals in my brain, the
muscles in my limbs, and the nerves under my skin. YOU ARE THE
REASON FOR MY EXISTENCE. You are the cause and effect of my
every action. Encompassing all types of feelings, you are the
backbone of emotion itself. The vastness of your reach is
unsurpassable by any thought imaginable. I thank you for all you
have contributed to the creation and development of life. In yet, I no
longer deserve to be graced with your presence. The evils I have
committed against you, the very essence of life, are atrocious. All
throughout the history of my existence, you have been present and
persistent in pushing me towards progression. All the while, I was
kicking and screaming. Masking your beauty with my destructive
ways. If only I could fully understand your unconditional consistency.
After all the lessons you have taught me, the elegance of the
universe you have shown me, and your endless effort to redeem me
from myself, I am obligated to apologize for ending existence. If I
knew then what I know now, I would have opened my eyes sooner
and appreciated the grand gift of life.

Sincerely,

Humanity

Man and Machine

They claim I am of robotic origin, a real man of tin.
Just void my devotion because I’m allegedly devoid of emotion, despite the reasoning
behind me striving for verbal communication being to stay in mental relation specifically
to avoid such frustration. Sure, stick to your misinterpretation of my explanation on how
to approach our situation with healthy intention. The man of steel can’t possibly feel,
right? Or did you just initiate the fight out of fear that I might actually be your shiny-
armored knight? These things take a heavy toll on my heart, but instead of feeling torn
apart I just start to thicken the walls to prevent future emotional falls. As a result, I have
become jaded and my trust has faded to an extreme that doesn’t seem to deem any human
interaction as potential satisfaction. On the inside is the knight who died, but still the
armor carries out his will. Just as they had foreseen, I am now machine.

Lost at Sea

The skies wide open and the air fresh as ever
A man appears content, though his thoughts are severed
The will to choose who, what, when, where and however
But to the fear of the deep blue, his mind is tethered

Swiftly rolling in, comes the inevitable storm
In a panic, he searches for the land he was born
Following the path of light, only still to feel torn
He reaches the house, but decides to break the norm

Time reveals truth as he takes a deep breath
The man realizes his vessel is all he has left
The face of the infinite wave reeks of death
The choice to end his own life, he now heft

A ship lost at sea contains the man who thought he was free
Burned down the lighthouse and sailed on to see
The price of freedom, his heart forever lonely
Eternally shrouded by the fog of regret and misery.

Insidious

pale and unfamiliar

the sun slants

at odd angles

reaching through

the window

as streaks of light

and dust motes

twist and turn

insidiously

surreptitiously

threatening to choke

my very essence

until I am tangled

in a web

of empty despair

my fetal state

frozen in fear

as the scent

that oh so familiar scent

of death

washes over me

insidiously

surreptitiously

seeping

through my veins

beckoning

tempting

whispering

my

name

By Dawn

Although I have experienced several types of loneliness listed on this website, this particular  poem is about the “alone” feeling that often comes as a precursor to an anxiety or panic attack.

What the Day Said

As we began our journey the sun shone brightly.
My companions: the rusty remains of my trusty bike
And the emptiness that filled me.

The bike took me where it would.
Sailing down winding streets past a patchwork of houses.
Racing through the town where the music lived.
Then, it was off to the sea.

The bike stopped at a bench in the sand.
The respite of motion was murdered on cedar planks.
Now my eyes – long since dead – were forced to witness life.

Colorful umbrellas dotted the landscape, soon to fade.
Beautiful children played in the sand, soon to lose their innocence.
Blissful lovers hand in hand on the beach, soon to argue and part.
In the ocean was an old woman, her face haggard and drawn.
Once she was young and beautiful, vibrant and alive.
Now she stood alone and lonely in the vastness of the sea.

Presently, the bike found a well-worn path running along a busy road.
Flying now along the cobblestone to the beauty of a pond.
The seclusion of the place was not welcome. Still, the water drew me to its edge.
There, I pondered the reflection of an old man.
There, a lovely, lonely bird cried out in sorrow for his mate.
There, the old man nodded and turned away, a voice inside him muttering.

As the sun raced round, the bike moved slowly past mansions
Where loathsome creatures live with the ghosts of those they have wronged.
They pray desperately that no one will betray them with the truth.
Behind vine-covered walls, they know the solitude of the suspect.

Back along the road, the bike returned to the bench and the sea.
Then, the sun dropped from the sky and the afternoon died a fiery death.
Later, sitting in the fading light, my heart heard what the day had told.
I was not prepared for what it had to say.

The day said the old woman’s husband watched from the beach as she swam.
It said the bird’s mate waited just out of sight.
It argued that my loneliness was mine alone, not theirs, as I had hoped.
It said I longed to live among the hated creatures just beyond the manicured hedges.
It shouted that I, too, hid behind walls, alone and torn apart – and by choice!
Then, the day seared my soul with a burning truth.
It said that loneliness was my only friend because I feared life.
It held that Death would not be kind to me.
It whispered that my solitude was suspect.