That Place

I awoke last night feeling it again,
I know why it's there and cannot avoid its beckoning, calling me - calling Ben...
I feel it mostly in the pit of my gut,
That sharp pain - that knife making its cut,
Deepening into a wider and wider hole,
Deeper and deeper, scratching my soul.
Do you feel that, can you feel that?
The involuntary beating where it becomes the feet, and you are the mat.
I experience it daily , mostly at night,
Where the floor gives out and takes me on an endless plight.
I know what it is, but that feeling is unwilling to cease,
I can't get away, can't shake free… I've never heard of the eternal lease.
I am given the day to make it end,
But I do not take advantage of the freedom the pain will lend.
It’s the mouse wheel that will never stop,
Where you try and try again, but seem to always fail and flop.
It promises to go away if I can fix this ugly mess,
It has told me its name only once, the pain said it was called - loneliness.