Unending Night of Cold and Loneliness

I am the tossing and turning, trying to sleep, the blankets kicked and pillows pulled tight, the sweat upon the brow and longing ache of a lonely heart.

Unending.

I am the smiling face, with frowning eyes, their window open upon a brutal scene of empty rooms with scattered pictures, a soul house filled but vacant and abandoned.

Night.

I am the watching TV alone, checking the blinking command of every txt message, comment on facebook waiting to be read, picture uploaded waiting to be seen, the tweet on twitter waiting to be retweeted, the post on google waiting to be liked, search engines reach out with your crawlers and find me.

Cold.

I am the table with one empty chair, seldom used except by the mail, cooking meals too big for one, the face in the mirror, the bare places on the wall, the hollow sound in the open space, the single seat on the front porch, the slow motion gazer upon the fast moving cars.

Loneliness.

I am the laughing mask, the easy going friendly one, active and talking and yet still and silent, the voice of hunger, the face of thirst, the hand outstretched, the empty seat in the crowded room, the conversation soon forgotten, the vanishing puff of breath, the soon to fade memory.