I'm told

[Mattie]

I’ve never lived alone,
I’m told it’s lonely:
with cold sheets,
silent meals,
restive hearts confined by space.
Real lonely.
Restive space confined by heart,
silent meals,
cold sheets,
these I know.
Luckily, though,
I’ve never lived alone.

I don't think much of the name, sorry.

Mikey.

I find a sadness in this poem,as if the writer is looking through
a window that is really a mirror.