Loneliness

Walking through the moshpit of people,

the thick, congestible smoke came forth,

summoned by a hollow feeling— an empty body.

Only the destined, dark fog approaches,

encircling me like a hug,

An entity like I— in solidarity, solitude.

Stone pathways of forced proximity blur as

the blind and tunnel-visioned pass.

Flashes of fair light that fate does grant is all I get.

Others bathe in luminous comfort that comes from being in groups.

Two would do, but I am still alone;

I am the small point of grey clouds that

cumulate and grow darker.

Contrasting realities don’t notice

because the fluorescent glow hides the balls of cotton

stained black.