The Yearning for Connection - By Chane van Heerden

Written By: Chane van Heerden

Category: Prose Poetry or Confessional Poetry

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Chane van Heerden, writing under the name "Human," presents a deeply introspective piece titled "The Yearning for Connection," in the category of Prose Poetry or Confessional Poetry. As part of the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, this submission explores the profound themes of loneliness and the human desire for companionship. Through a narrative that is both personal and universal, van Heerden invites readers into a world of emotions that resonate with anyone who has experienced the aching need for connection.

About the Work

This evocative work by Chane van Heerden is a poignant exploration of solitude and the longing for human touch. The piece captures the rawness of emotion through vivid imagery and a stream-of-consciousness style that reflects on the complexities of human relationships. The narrative voice is both vulnerable and resolute, grappling with the desire for love and understanding amidst the silence of loneliness.

Human

Original Submission by Chane van Heerden

I haven't written in a really long time. I think, in a way, I was angry at the words. The words I could always weave were just… not. Aren’t. That made me angry. That made me afraid. But not for lack of speaking, for lack of anything at all. Saying it, knowing it, telling it, did not matter once, not in any way that made me feel good. I wished so deeply for companionship and care that in the unraveling of my psyche, I grew resentful of it, of being able to see and know and love. I could understand and I could smile at my wayward ways, and I hated how very, very lonely that quickly became.

In that unraveling, there was no one but me.

I lay down to rest. Wary of it. I do not want to sleep; I do not want to go to the dark and wake alone. I miss people. But these people make me ache, and yet without them, I feel sick.

I tell myself that I love the night, that I love the silence. I tell myself these things because they feel good. It feels good to not flinch, because they make me flinch. They are not gentle with their hands and their doors and their feet and their voices. They make me recoil. My heart is tired—tired of running up and down my insides wailing, wailing, wailing. Stop, stop, stop.

I like the morning. I like the people. I like the work. I wish only for all of the rattling in my head, in my teeth, in my spine to go away. Please. Plead.

I want to be awake when there are birds. I do not like missing the sun. I do not want to miss the sun. These things do not have to be this extreme. I know that you miss the sun. But I also know that you do not want to be in its light; you do not want to cry.

You wish for your home to be empty. You wish to lie down in the mud for someone to make it a little more shallow. You wish to be alone and loved. Both. Neither. Your skin aches to be touched. Your chest hurts. Your lungs burn. It is nowhere near enough, just like the meals.

You wish to rest. You wish to be clean. The mud has stained your dress. Your cheeks are streaked with dirt. I will be ready for the ball. I will be ready for the ball. But there is no water. Water has never existed. There is only the sun. And your skin is cracking.

The tears do not clean your face; they were enough water when you were dumber, they could clean a whole church. Now there has never been water. Now the tears come: one, two... three... four.

Now, there is mud on my face. I am trying to smile, but I look stupid. I look silly when I quiet down and say, "It will all be okay." I feel silly when the grown man leans on my shoulder as boulders drop from the sky. Why did you believe that? When did you start?

I feel silly. I am awake on the other side of this embrace looking at a reflection of a child promising harvest. Her little face is dirty. She says things she will bleed for. I do not want her to bleed.

I feel my lungs shrink when the child’s eyes turn such a dark shade of red. He has no more ‘kid’ in him. My face is dirty, my hands are there, they exist. No one told me where to do ‘anything’. Where do I go and be ‘anything I want’? What does that mean?

Anything. That is nothing.

Now I am not in the mud. My face is dry, it aches. The moonlight is cool and there are no questions for the children. I do not speak for hours. My thoughts aren't words anymore. Sometimes they are in a language I do not speak. I wait for them to pass and lie here until morning.

Tired and dirty. I wish for gentle hands on my head. Read next to me. Guard me. Do not leave me alone. I need a friend. I needed parents. It is too late to go to bed with a lullaby, there are no stories read. There is chilling silence. There is so much quiet. I want two hands and arms and shoulders and a heart and a head that belong to me, that want to—I need to fall asleep with someone. I am in pain. There is nowhere to borrow from. Please Life, give me hope. I don't need forever. I need a cheeky smile, dimples, and kindness that can love me forever for now. I’d rather remember fondly, I’d rather miss, I just don't want to be alone anymore.

Just one for now, that is all mine. That can match me. We can be socks for a while. I’ll fall in love and be broken if it stops. But it will never be worse than this quietness.

Please. Please. I am not horrible anymore. I could love well. I don't make everything about me anymore. I compromise. I am wise. I am weak. I am never toxic anymore. I swallow my pride and I choose love and kindness every day. I can fight. I can fight clean. I listen. I change. I adapt. I just want… I want to feel safe. Just once. Just for a little while, longer and repeatedly if it turns out that way. I want to feel wonder when I look at them. I want to feel like a girl. I want water.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar celebrates the power of words to connect and inspire. This prestigious event invites writers from around the world to share their unique voices and stories in various literary forms. While it showcases a diversity of themes and styles, the competition remains a testament to the enduring impact of creative expression.

We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Chane van Heerden for sharing "The Yearning for Connection" with us. This moving submission to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 opens a window into the human spirit, capturing the essence of longing and hope. Thank you, Chane, for your courage and artistry.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.