Clichéd Loneliness

I could just write a load of tired clichés,
All alone, turn to look at you,
You're not there,
I need my best friend,
You're not there,
I message you that I miss you,
5 minutes later, you go offline.
Then tell me the next day
You never saw the message.

Or I could just say that at the moment,
Home is a single bed.
In a dark room. In an empty flat.
In a country where I am the foreigner,
Where everyone speaks my language,
Until they're done talking to me.

Where I am not hungry,
Where I smoke more than I eat.
Where coffee and cigarettes have become my staple diet.
Where only three of my friends
Even bother to text me anymore.
Where I am quickly reminded,
That I am not a popular person.

Where the only people who still talk
Every week
Are my grandparents.
Where I am in a position of authority,
Telling my students they should get some sleep,
Eat some breakfast,
Because they're no good to anyone,
Especially themselves
If they're tired and hungry.
After I've spent all night
Writing poetry.
Streaming crappy TV.

Because if I'm asleep,
I dream about my cliché loneliness.
Before waking up,
And remembering you're not there.