Would it be so bad if I we were to die a lonely?

When was a lonely my neuroses was my own, and I could handle it, and I wanted it, and it made me.

But now when I get in bed I feel a crack in the surface and I’m flooded with the impulse to pry and -
cry and cry and cry and cry and cry and so I suppose I will think of you because I’m no longer a lone but I’m a lonely,
afflicted, a little less without you, almost useless almost nothing, almost almost
ready to cry but there’s the just the gap between our messages and
silence
is where my feelings go as sleep takes over.