The Art of Being Alone - Site title afraid of being alone

I am alone because I am afraid,

But I am afraid of being alone.

Surrounded by laughter, yet in tears,

A million friends but no confidant.

A heavy hand upon my shoulder — unseen.

A whisper follows me — unheard.

It is never truly there,

Yet it never leaves me.

If I am alone I won’t get hurt,

But I am hurt because I am alone.

Do I enjoy my presence because I am alone?

Am I alone because I enjoy my presence?

On the outside, I am a warm afternoon in May —

Blue skies, soft breeze, a smile that drifts like wind.

But inside, I am a cold December night —

Gray skies, sharp air, and a heart frozen within.

If I don’t love, they can’t leave me,

But they leave because I can’t love.

Am I like this because I have no one?

Do I have no one because I am like this?

Words hang heavy on my tongue,

If I don’t say them, they can’t use them against me.

But if I don’t tell them how will they know how I feel?

Either choice I lose.

If I smile they won’t know it hurts,

But it hurts because I must keep smiling.

Am I sad because I am alone?

Am I alone because I am sad?

Maybe being alone is not a curse,

but a mirror I’ve been afraid to face.

In the silence, I hear my own voice —

trembling, but finally mine.