Fidgeting bones, the polka-dotted time
consumes me into lachrymose pieces.
I find my shadow as a friend, the magic reflection
of being opaque.
Solitude is my encouraging appointment, how it delves into the blunt building of my single-minded soul
turns me into a hollow doll full of nothingness.
A tamed disaster,
That caged self ,
That polite sip of a cozy pain.
Solitude is the fire that just minds its own business, burning other people's plush skin.
Solitude is the divine sea i wash in,
The tasteless shore that meets with my poised waves.
That macabre misery,
stuck in the chamber of time.
Grotesque dances in the bedroom floors.
Solitude is the sincere sun that wishes to give me
sunlight more than ever.
That open summer rain.
That putrid film i surveil.
The unpredicted villain.
An expert at blackness.
That apathetic silence.
A useless gift,
The mumbled messenger,
consumed me in its sharp mantle, a brave taste
of bliss.
Insane blues,
a frail, bruised psyche.
I bask for the invisible truth.
Wrathful trouble,
an unbroken oath.
That sweet benefit,
that fiery tongue,
that wistful adventure.
Solitude is a superior addiction
you can never escape.
©sarah_
J