we live with loneliness

if we are only as the ones around us,

then i must surely count on misery being a permanent guest,

a roll out bed on the floor, toothbrush, socks and shoes

stacked against the corner where the gray walls meet

he cries at night when the cats bite our toes and makes the sting brighter

i haven't summoned the nerve to evict the lonesome character

he is comfortable here, made a home inside our heads

and he never, ever, sees the sun.