loneliness

loneliness,
she is no longer a random guest,
but rather a large force amassing
within this space we inhabit.
sucking meaning out of the void.
loneliness,
she is sick of what i have become,
and i am still in love with who she used to be.
we are full of each other,
like drugs in our blood.
her presence, rude and crushing,
anchoring me to the slowest perception of time.
loneliness,
she no longer inspire.
communication boiled down to misconstrued gestures.
this relationship, we can not end.
we are one, not in love,
separated only by name.
loneliness,
she is me.
this unease with which we live.