Dust. 

I’m not lonely in an empty room kinda way
I don’t feel alone because there is no love
Not even because I feel misunderstood

The loneliness I feel eats my bones
It’s nothing to do with my physical home
Home is full of everything I need
Yet, still I bleed

My blood seeps into every hour that I breathe
No suture can stem the flow of torture
That floods my veins

My eyes weep the pain of humanity
Biting into my face until I am forced to scratch the itch of futility
In search of any good that remains

I am lonely for my soul
The loneliness leaks out into the world
Like a venom that cannot be contained
It poisons the little girl
That resides within me

Drip, drip, drip
Humanity's grip
The lies
Render me weakened

So many lost souls
Swallowing mine
Taking my time
My trust 

For a moment of glory
Built on nothing but dust. 
Clare Kinnaird, 2025.