When Love Feels Like a Distant Country

In the quiet gloom a fractured grin resides

A porcelain mask where the lost girl hides

Shattered heart, veins pumping with despair

Hopes and dreams swirl down, a spiral of despair

Wallpapered wishes, peeled away in blight

Her world, once vibrant, now banished from light

Isolation’s embrace becomes her bitter friend

Craving connections she cannot comprehend

Love – a starving artist in her soul’s forlorn gallery

An elusive portrait, sketched in the throes of a rally

A mother’s touch, a son’s laugh – heart’s quiet plea

In the chaos of night, she’s adrift at a tempestuous sea

Life hands her shards of glass veiled as destiny’s kiss

Each break, a cruel mystics twisted reminisce

“Why,” she whispers, “does fate steal my bliss?”

In her echo, only silence returns from the abyss

She’s anchored in a storm of ceaseless sorrow

Yearning for a sunrise in all of her tomorrow’s

In her eyes, a galaxy of tears, starts of her plight

She’s seeking mere warmth in the cold, cosmic night

For love is the beacon she’s desperate to won

A lighthouse to guide her through zones unknown

Yet, in every shadow, she faces her trials alone

A daughter of the storm, her spirit seeks a home

With each heartbeat, she’s painting her fable

In brush strokes of grief on a canvas unstable

But even in the night, with its villainous scheme

Can’t smother the fire of an undying dream

Some days, it feels like the world is happening behind a pane of glass. I can see it—people laughing, hugging, loving—but I can’t touch it. I walk through crowds and feel like a ghost, surrounded by life but untouched by it. The loneliness clings to me like a second skin.

It’s not just being alone. It’s the ache of craving affection like air. It's the endless cycle of hoping someone will see me—not just look at me, but see me—and never quite getting there. It's watching everyone else form connections like it’s the easiest thing in the world, while I stumble through silence and unreturned messages.

I want to be held. I want someone to look at me like I matter, like I’m not just another blur in the background of their life. I want to be someone’s reason to smile, their safe place. I want love—not the Instagram kind, but the kind that makes the quiet moments feel full instead of hollow.

It hurts to admit it. It feels weak to say out loud that I need love, that I’m desperate for it. But the truth is, I do. Not because I’m not whole on my own—I’m surviving—but because I’m human. And humans need warmth. We’re wired for it.

I keep trying. I keep showing up, even when it feels pointless. I keep reaching out, even when my hand comes back empty. But the silence is louder these days, and it’s wearing me down. There’s a kind of grief in wanting what you can’t seem to find, a mourning for something that was never even yours.

Maybe love will come. Maybe it won’t. But today, I’m just tired. Tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m not. Tired of swallowing my loneliness so it doesn’t make anyone else uncomfortable. Tired of wanting something so badly and never being chosen.

If you’re reading this and you feel the same way, you’re not alone. I know that doesn’t fix anything, but it’s true. I see you. And I’m with you in the silence.