Loneliness Poems Short Novels & Stories

"Yeah, honey. I'm wiped, but I'm so happy I get to see you." I simply replied, "Okay." Since he'd "left for work," I hadn't set foot in the place we shared. I stayed at my own apartment because the condo felt contaminated by him. … That night, he came home to the condo buzzing with energy, only to realize I wasn't there. He sounded wounded over the phone. "Honey, why weren't you here to greet me? Do you know how sad it feels to come home to an empty place? Come on, make it up to me."

The soft sigh of the night wind over the truncated spires of the Celestial city, teasing the blossoms of my little pet Lavender shrub in its red-glazed pot. I lifted my gaze and stared out at the multicoloured lights of the windows laid out around me. I could see others like me, maybe thirty in total. All of them, without exception, alone. Loneliness is part of existence up here. We all have internal shadows, things we struggle with. It's apparently meant to be this way; we're meant to suffer at least a bit. We can perhaps steal a moment of bliss and forgetfulness with one another, or in the arms of one of the obliging visitors from Down Under.

People think it's poetic, but for me, it's more like a cold gust that cuts through my heart, an echo of loneliness that lingers longer than any cheerful jingle I hear from the children outside. Every morning, the sun slips into my small, wood-paneled room, filtering through the frosted window and casting light patterns that briefly distract me from the heaviness I feel. Outside, the world is wrapped in a blanket of shimmering snow that glitters like diamonds, transforming our cozy backyard into a peaceful wonderland. Pines stand as steady guardians, their branches heavy with winter's weight, while the air is filled with muffled laughter—sounds that seem to come from a distant place where hap

Sleep was enough meant he was lying in the dark staring at the ceiling the way I was lying in the dark staring at mine, two hundred miles apart, both of us pretending the distance was temporary when it felt like it was calcifying into something permanent with every passing day. I wrote my column from my childhood desk. The words came differently here – slower, heavier, coloured by the specific loneliness of being in the house where you grew up while the life you built somewhere else continues without you. I wrote about distance. About the cruelty of phones that let you hear someone's voice but not feel their skin. About how silence from the person you love sounds different than silence from

“I believed no one could understand what I was feeling. I kept everyone at a distance because I didn’t want to get hurt again.” She looked at Verath and smiled. “Then I met people who refused to let me stay alone.” The bond on her wrist glowed faintly. “I learned that loneliness isn’t the absence of people. It’s believed that no one would miss you if you disappeared.” Noxaris looked away. A memory resurfaced in Elara’s mind. A younger version of him sat beneath the silver tree, staring at the stars. ‘Why are you here by yourself?’ she had asked.

These people always have a great fun by teasing others no one shows interest to do friendship with me infact I too don't have any interest to do friendship with anyone I love to keep myself mysterious I never let someone to enter into my boundaries the one they think is not me I know what I'm but there is no need to others to know about me Loneliness is my partner calmness is my soul Lonely are the nights Lonely are the days Lonely am I, in so many ways Lonely are the seasons Lonely are the years So lonely am I that brings tears Lonely is this place Lonely is my life Lonely am I,that I reach for a knife Lonely is this court room Lonely is my sentence So lonely am I that ask for repentance .

son, Stay and guide me until I'm done." Then she picked up a quill, dipped it into the ink and wrote on a small slip of paper, loneliness. Her life would improve if she could only remove that wasting feeling from her heart. Alone or not, loneliness could eat at her either way. Ridding herself of that feeling and becoming content with where she was would make her of better service to all in this lifetime. She also needed to remember that she was never truly alone. She folded the paper in half and dipped it into the flame kindled in the clay pot and let it blaze up before dropping it in to burn.

she mumbled beneath my breath, trying to face my reality. Few days later, My days have been used with loneliness and longing, he has reached out to me, nor given me a call. He always avoids me with every chance he gets, he doesn't even check up on me! My longing paints the room with hues of sorrow, each corner echoing the whispers of my heart calling out for him, a melody of love lost in the vast emptiness of the night.

Could it be that he got fed up with me or he lost interest in me but there again if my own family left me why won't someone I met not long ago. Thinking of this I did not notice the droplets of water that flowed through my eyes . You never really know how much someone means to you until you loose that person . There is a pain within this heart, pain within my sadness through my eyes, My eyes are like a burden that you can see right through, No pain I ever felt was that single broken heart that, There is way out of this pain but somehow I can't see it , See the light , the hope ,the happiness I once wanted to feel , Now I ever feel is this sadness , this pain, this heartache, A pain within t

I try to push the thoughts away, but they keep coming back, like waves crashing against the shore. I think about my friends and family and how lucky they are to have someone to share their lives with. I envy them, even though I'm happy for them. But no matter how much I try to be happy for them, the ache of loneliness never goes away. "Why am I alone?" I whisper into the night. "Why can't I find someone to love me? Tears start to fall, hot and salty against my cheeks. I feel the weight of loneliness settling on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I try to take a deep breath, but it's like there's a rock sitting on my chest, crushing me with its heaviness.