The truest part of being alone is the silence
a silence that screams louder than any word ever could.
The truest part of loneliness is how that silence makes you feel
and it always comes back to not being good enough.
I have never felt like I had a place that was mine
where I could rise and fall, where I could succeed or fail.
Where I wouldn’t ever wonder if I belonged
where I would always know that I was home.
I remember being a little girl and riding my bike
around the block and looking in on them.
On everyone who had something that I never ever had
on smiling faces that never looked like mine.
There has always been this sadness that I’ve carried
like a heavy weight strapped across my back.
It hurts, and it is cumbersome, and awkward
and has always made me slower than the rest.
I’m aware of its presence with every step I take
and I spend lots of time trying to get the balance right.
So I can pretend to walk in stride with everybody else
but really I’m just trying to keep up.
Here alone now, I’m working hard
so that I can be strong enough to carry that burden along.
It’s always going to be part of who I am
but maybe it won’t always slow me down.
Here in this silence that loneliness takes me deeper
and deeper until I begin to disappear.
I am half the size I was six months ago
I don’t even look like the same girl.
Here in this silence I scratch and scrape and claw
I’ve cut, I’ve bled, I’ve fallen to the floor.
I’ve swum in murky waters and I’ve sung mourning songs
and I’ve tried to dig my way out of this hole.
But I know that I will always feel this ache
I will always miss something that’s missing in me.
I will always feel alone, I will always feel lonely
but I will never feel more alone than this.