Loneliness is a worm
gnawing at my gut,
so I cling to boys
who don’t care
(flowers promised but never given).
It wiggles its way through me
so I can’t ignore it
making me cry.
Loneliness is a new housemate
I’m still getting used to
so I reach out to boys
who don’t try
(dates at the Supermarket).
To talk on the phone
about how loneliness
leaves towels on the floor
and dishes in the sink,
but I am talking to dial tone.
Loneliness is a best friend
who is always there
with a helping hand
and a grip on my chest,
so I grasp at boys
who look but don’t see
(stood up at his house).
It curls up with me
when I am consumed.
