Solitude

I wrap it around myself like a blanket for the cold months. Nobody knows at all. Some graveyard, consuming, taking the days from. I slip into poetic gloom, you say you don't understand. How fragile, tender and confusing. Demons and ghosts, all of them at us, on the back and the shoulder, memories that never give up, never rest for a second.

Should they be short little lines or just blocks of text? In my solitude I have not the answer. As long as the words swim out there, from the mouth of the computer, into the pool of your eyes.

I saw a hollow cross, hanging from around your neck. You are not what you say you will be. Not what you promised. There are many of you here, I struggle through the crowd of you. You seem to often multiply. I cannot for the life of me work that out.

I sit here alone. Nobody to hear the voice. Or to even matter to. Crippled by the silence, words, where have you been? For now we are over. All we ever had was now, to look after, to blossom in. Abandon me when I need you the most. I am lost in the maze here, all of this again. For me.