i'm beginning to think i'm destined to be alone

i need to vent.

Sometimes when the world seems particularly cruel,

I sit down with a pen in hand and simply scrawl.

I write every feeling, fleeting and thoughtful,

as though somehow, you are reading

and listening

since you don’t do so in person.

But nothing changes.

It makes me sadder.

Maybe it isn’t the world that is cruel, after all.