The Lonely (Parts I & II) (poem)

I.

Do you know what it's like, to be alone
In a sea of people? I'd love to cast my phone
Away from me -- my confidence is slipping,
Reality -- my healthy views -- well, you start stripping
My mummy brain. You unravel my mind,
With the help of your friends. Where can I find
Me a social circle? Not once called "weird",
Never just the odd-one-out, for I have veered
On the path of safety, most of this life time --
Just the sort of thing that promotes illness -- even knife crime.

II.

I'd like to take that blade, and stick it in
Myself -- lobotomise -- terrify -- anything to remove that placid grin.
I'd rather succumb to my most foul depression
Than fake a smile, pretend I'm fine and force expression
Of how healthy I am. I can't believe how clinical
Just everything is, when the black takes hold: so cynical
I wonder if you'll read this once, twice or thrice? This
Poem is not just meaningless: it's the way out of crisis.
Sadness begets anger; and when my true sorrow does return,
You've no idea the pain experienced by Labern.