you’re the kind of person who makes people lonely. you dream of five cats entering the house and watching you. you know it’s over when the cats have come. your mother’s psychic said this would happen. but you’ve only ever believed in magic. you wonder if you should tell someone about this feeling that won’t quit. 3am is for sobbing in your sleep and car alarms. every morning before consciousness you think. it’s all okay. and then you wake.
you’re the kind of person who makes people lonely. the receptionist says how can I help you sir. and you know you are invisible. you wish you were only invisible here. then it would be easier to move on. you make plans you don’t intend to keep. how can you tell them about this feeling that won’t quit.
you’re the kind of person who makes people lonely. when the cats come for you. you will be ready. you fantasise about how you will do it. you refuse violence and the implication of others. you’re so far from the sea here. in the morning a low moaning comes from underneath the house. you don’t need to check what it is.
you’re the kind of person who makes people lonely. you get desperate when you’re sad. desperation leads you to water. how long will they lock you up for this feeling. if it happens. they will never let you out. the most everyday outings were made magic with you. the streets are different now. and when you were lying under the sheet and couldn’t breathe. you thought this must be what it’s like. this must feel like dying.
you’re the kind of person who makes people lonely.