Literature
'Loneliness'
Sometimes I forget
how cold it is out here.
No one seems to be near enough
to talk, or simply just to be there.
I tend to think about that,
and how everyone I see is just
a photograph of themselves,
old news, what they looked like years ago.
So when I'm out here, alone,
burning brightly for others to see years later,
I can't help but thing that
one day when I go,
when I become an explosion
or a black hole,
I'll find someone to take with me
and never be alone again.