Despair pulls at me,
begging for me to disappear
into the darkness of death,
where all my dreams await me.
Why should I fight it?
For life here is nothing to enjoy.
I am alone, 22, with no prospects.
The ironic thing is all I have ever wanted
was to find someone to love me completely.
Yet here do I sit.
Alone, tired, denied the very thing
I dream of night after night.
I want someone to share my life with,
to entrust my secrets to.
Someone who will allay my fears,
relieve my sorrows.
A partner, a lover, a confidante.
Is that too much to ask for?
© Johanna Fugitt 2017