Loneliness and the Incurable Prepositions by Harsimran Kaur (17, India)

“-but loneliness is still the time spent with the earth.”
-Ocean Vuong

I can see it from my garden overlooking the buildings, the green bushes blushing with spring flowers. I see it creeping through abandoned hallways of some school where the sunlight leaks through the roof and the day yawns open in an awakening. Sooner or later, I know, like everyone, that the houses will sleep in the embrace of darkness in the pitch-black night. ​

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As for me, I see it holding my hand when I’m at the bazaar - the marketplace in front of my home or existing in the same latitude as mine while I’m reading. I see it when I’m talking with my mother, and speaking with my father. I see it in the sugar cubes, the jam cookies. I see it in red hats, in dogs, in cats, in the mundane and lofty buildings standing high, in the closet where I occasionally change my clothes - or in the bathroom, for that matter. 

It’s like having a lover - an unsolicited affair that goes on and on till eternity. 

***

When it’s light, I wear my Khakis and go out in the rain, and I see no one carrying an umbrella. Instead, I see them wearing wet black coats. Then suddenly, there’s no rain. In the summers, the trees shimmer continuously - as if getting rid of something. In the winter, they fall at the behest of the land and become naked. 
***

Finally, I can see it coming through me, into me, for me, on me, in me, over me, inside me, outside me, around me, beneath me, and most of all, above me - like an underappreciated cloud of tears.