Alone

I can only fool myself for so long

In the end, I am, and always will be alone.

Alone. No one else is safe to rely on, to trust too far,

They all go away.

I can only rely on myself, and that is scant, bitter comfort.

Even I avert my eyes at the sight of my own unreasoned tears.

Oh, to be as cynical as some!

But no, pathetic, the souls of romantics get trodden upon day after day,

And yet, like a puppy beaten and kicked, we still only want to be loved,

Eventually almost craving the beatings because it's at least something.

And hate and love have never been opposites.

I fear the nothingness...

The loneliness...

The reality of Death is lived day by day,

And the Tragedy of it is,

I suspect we all live this way.