Grieving the Living: A Real Type of Mourning?

LONELY IS AS ALONE AS IT GETS

She thought death, a dark dancer 
disguised: a friend now a stranger then,
the worst thing she’d encounter
this lifetime.

Impossible to imagine, the hole
of loneliness that blew through her
when the betrayal took place.
Twas beyond her grasp, the level
of abandonment she felt.

Her child, her first born
turned on her one day — 
so suddenly, her breath gave out.
For a second, she thought death
 — clever devil — was assuming
another costume, one that would
kill her right then.

But no, lonely doesn’t kill you.
Lonely stabs you deeply, daily,
leaks your life-blood by drops.
Lonely is a veil of tears
you wear like widow’s weeds,
invisible to all but you.