Wednesday, December 25, 2019

Solitude

So often I am alone
That my time is spent
Feeling through different parts of my body
The 4th rib on my right side
The slight scrape of stubble on my calf
My left earlobe bent against my skull.
I close my eyes 
And allow the discomfort to settle in 
Allow it to penetrate beneath the surface of my thoughts
Below the initial feeling of wanting to adjust
Deep into the actual body of my being
What’s there is unimpressive yet
Magnificently immense 
And I often wonder
If most people ever reach it
Because most people can’t handle being alone
Can’t handle silence 
Can’t sit in stillness and discomfort
I know this because 
I still am most people
Some of the time
And really,
I am a product of my environment 
I just refuse
To clutter the opportunity 
With distraction. 

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