What to call this urge to weep
with no reason at all,
yet not a single tear falls
no matter how hard you plead?
What is this creeping desolation
when you have so many people around
but what you wish to say is stuck in your throat,
no ears tuned for consolation?
What is this crumbling lonesome
when you keep walking in someone else’s shoes
yet none tries on yours,
and you become a self you cannot fathom?
And what to name these series of questions
that you already have the answers?
Rhetorical—
you are lost for words,
answers locked in denial,
or maybe,
just maybe,
genuinely lost.
Paracosmic 
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