A water color pond with green, blue, and pink

this month we offer loneliness part 2. Next month we sit with

    silence

Submission guidelines can be found here. And: if you would like to support our work, we would be humbled and grateful. You can do so here.

rays of light streaming into a cave from above, viewed from inside the cave.

LONELINESS PT. 2

The needing it is the point.

It’s not vulnerability if I can live without it
If I can bargain for it. Set up an even trade.
So I’m not asking. There’s no squaring the other side of this equation, so I won’t bother trying.

Vulnerability isn’t about being fair. It’s about needing it, knowing I need it.
Having to admit that I need it, helplessly, woefully.
I could rejoice in how powerless I am, knowing full well how fucked I might feel, how I might not get it.
(I usually cry instead.)
But I do it anyway
Not because I want to hurt, but because it hurts too much not to.

I could slap the next person who tells me “Never Apologize”.
I will never Never Apologize.
How dare you free me from my gross indignity!
Let me be embarrassed, to be so hopelessly, helplessly dependent.
Let me be humbled, and human, and lonely, and desperately needing
Let me cry out, broken, for the only thing I can’t get myself:

You.

Sylvia Riege is a music producer and short-form writer living in Los Angeles.

Sylvia publishes electronic music under the name Bcspatch, with various accompanying writings available via her newsletter. Her 2020 interview with Rough Cut Press can be found here.

A figure standing at the end of a long dock over water at dusk
A water color pond with green, blue, and pink

this month we offer loneliness part 2. Next month we sit with

    silence

Submission guidelines can be found here. And: if you would like to support our work, we would be humbled and grateful. You can do so here.

rays of light streaming into a cave from above, viewed from inside the cave.

LONELINESS PT. 2

The needing it is the point.

It’s not vulnerability if I can live without it
If I can bargain for it. Set up an even trade.
So I’m not asking. There’s no squaring the other side of this equation, so I won’t bother trying.

Vulnerability isn’t about being fair. It’s about needing it, knowing I need it.
Having to admit that I need it, helplessly, woefully.
I could rejoice in how powerless I am, knowing full well how fucked I might feel, how I might not get it.
(I usually cry instead.)
But I do it anyway
Not because I want to hurt, but because it hurts too much not to.

I could slap the next person who tells me “Never Apologize”.
I will never Never Apologize.
How dare you free me from my gross indignity!
Let me be embarrassed, to be so hopelessly, helplessly dependent.
Let me be humbled, and human, and lonely, and desperately needing
Let me cry out, broken, for the only thing I can’t get myself:

You.

Sylvia Riege is a music producer and short-form writer living in Los Angeles.

Sylvia publishes electronic music under the name Bcspatch, with various accompanying writings available via her newsletter. Her 2020 interview with Rough Cut Press can be found here.

A figure standing at the end of a long dock over water at dusk

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