How Terrible Loneliness Is

By Joseph Cunningham

To Anthony Bailleres: you asked me to write about this, so I did.
 

I am in a cave, a dark, cold crevasse,

In the earth, ‘tween sky and sea. 

I cannot recall, the cause of it all 

For the sniveling life of me.

Long since I’ve stopped wond’ring 

From where the dim light was coming; 

Long ago I stopped writing to me. 

For all I can see, 

There’s one task left for me:
The deep spot – I’ve not dared it yet. 

Today I will see.

Gently now, I descend the unknown. 

It is colder and blacker; far darker. I moan. 

I fear there is someone; I fear there is no one.

I run my fingers down the stone. 

The far corner; I will feel the end now.
 

“No!”

“There is no one in here but me!” I cry. 

There is no one here but me.