Have you ever felt so lonely You could die?

Youre on a plane, taking you away from Home Every dimly lit window the eye of Some nuclear, despicable arachnid, Armed with its melancholy venom. Depression hurts. Depression is a knife, and isolation the handle. So why do we cut? Once, I sat alone In that airport Hoping for something to move, For my thigh to quiver, For something familiar to thaw me. But I froze In that 105 degree Florida sun. Perhaps a Frappuccino would serve my purposes better.