singular.

the literature of you can be summarized
in one word – loneliness.
you lay awake at hours most sleep,
not because you need the silence
but it’s the only time you’re comfortable
with loneliness. the night wears her starry
dress, and the moon is just close enough
that you don’t feel alone, like the
comfort of another breathing soul
at a diner just after two a.m.
relying on the little things to anchor
onto, your life plan never accounted
for you living past your early twenties,
and now you go through the motions,
mimicking happiness, leading a singular
existence, unsure of what to do next.