Who isn't lonely?

Who isn’t lonely?

Who isn’t lonely, sometimes?
Is it you?
Is it me?
Is it us?
I ask, expecting a response.
The quiet sickens me.
While the echo of my desperation repels, even me.
I see so clearly why I’m alone.
I’m alone because I stay.
I do as I’m told.
I stay because I fear I have nowhere to go.
I have nowhere to go.
It should be easier being lonely alone.
Who isn’t lonely, sometimes?
Is it you?
Is it me?
It’s me.