A Quiet Night Alone

There's a certain kind of beauty in pain.
Its a twisted kind of longing, that gnaws
At my insides; while I sit alone, yearning
For the past years when I was miserable.

Sometimes I want to go back. And
I want to cry. But there is nothing
To cry about, no tears worth being shed.
I've led a privileged life; I shouldn't
Be so sad.

The past never leaves you,
It is always there. In the quiets of your mind,
Covered up with the blanket of everyday life.
With all its simplicity and ease:
You are happy. Sometimes.

But when you get alone -
You are always alone.

No one around.
No friends.
No hobbies.
Nothing.
But the loneliness.
And its killing you,
Killing me.