I know what it means to be alone.

“I know what it means to be alone”

~Then tell me, what does it taste?~

“Everything that passes through my lips to touch my tongue turns to cold, suffocating ash.”’

~But you’ve never eaten ash, have you?~

“I can imagine.”

~No, a dreamless fool like you could never imagine anything, ever.~

“So you want an honest answer?”

~I want you to put it into words, real words, so that when you read them back it’s impossible to mistake them for anything other than the truth~

“My truth…”

~Your reality.~

In reality, loneliness doesn’t taste like ash. That phrase is used by idiots who want to sound poetic, who want to inject their writing with imagery they hope will draw something out of the reader, and those readers are even bigger idiots who pretend to understand what the fuck ash tastes like.

Loneliness… is salty. It’s eating instant cup noodles every night because you can’t be bothered to make a meal. And you eat the noodles before they have a chance to cool down, burning your tongue and cheeks. And all that salt leaves you dehydrated, but the only thing to drink in your room are warm, flat energy drinks, which do absolutely nothing, so your lips are always cracked. And it hurts to eat those hot, salty noodles, but you can’t stop. You need something, anything in your stomach to help fight the waves of nausea coming on as the dozens of pills you’ve swallowed half an hour ago begin to take effect, and you know without food in your stomach your body will twist and fight and fuck itself up to the point you vomit blood, and while the taste of salty, burning noodles brings you no joy, it’s a taste a hundred times better than the rusty taste of blood in your mouth. 

But… that taste of blood is a million times better than leaving my mind free to wander onto thoughts of what was, what could have been, what I never really had… I choose blood over another night dreaming of them, knowing I’ll never hold him, because he was never real, because I was too weak… so, so weak… so please, forgive me. Forgive me and let me live in a bloody Hell on Earth, but please don’t let me sleep, please don’t let me dream…