Loneliness

By Amrutha L

Waiting for someone to knock

on my bubble, which travels

around me like a shield.

They try to approach me -

Even with a bullet, the bubble

is undisturbed, undeterred.

Sighing, I try to reach out,

Efficiently pushed back.

The bubble just created a wall.

Trying again, my introverted screaming,

I try again to push through the walls.

The walls become harder to go through.

The hands on the other side

got bored and started to move on

with their life, without a thought of me.

I have been detained by the monster.

Those who cared enough to stick around never saw the monster holding me back.

They did not care; they just laughed at me. Nearby, the walls grew minute by minute.

Suddenly, those walls became my solace;

I started holding on to it, the Stockholm syndrome.

Coming down hard, without a way to escape.

Now the difference between the wall and me -

It is nil, somehow, I felt some peace inside

The closed wall of loneliness.

By Amrutha L