“Loneliness is a storm.
Not something relaxing, the pitter patter and distant rumble.
But the annoying pre-storm, wherein lives are boring, and not satisfying.
Hello?
Oh, the car crashed.
It’s sad, that’s so abrasive.
There are no voices in my head anymore,
But I’d welcome the company, you know.
Good thing I have nothing to hide,
So I’ll wait for you, and them.
~”
―
L.P. Cowling,
PFI: Poetry Collection
