The cracks of their fingers

[Julianne]

Words couldnt even begin

to describe how lonely it gets here

all alone in my head.

My only company

being my occasional

thoughts and insecurities

taunting me,

grabbing at me,

pulling me down

to places lower

than I'd ever imagined

I'd go.

All my friends,

yes they can be with me

and keep my exterior company.

And they can wipe away

the tears that stream

bitterly

down my cheek.

And they can hold my hand so tightly,

as if they're never ever going to let me go.

I could be surrounded

by thousands of millions of 'friends.'

It could be one fucking ambush

of people who 'love' me.

Every single one could pass me around

like some kind of ragdoll,

and each decorate me

with hugs and kisses,

and take turns

holding me tight,

tight in their arms.

And Id still manage to

slip right through

the cracks of their fingers.