a strange recognition
of an as yet undeveloped truth
wafts before me
an oddly instinctive understanding
hitherto unspoken
but in this moment
somehow realized
like the wind
solitude
of a kind in which i
even as my specifically calloused fingers
crudely tap out the words
find cause for subtle resistance
but it’s there just the same
a fatuous solitude
and here i am
fumbling
groping
a desperate attempt to glean some way of explaining this deep dark failing on my part
a failing of character
failing of the heart
a failing to recognize my own failing
time becomes irrelevant
thoughts of future possibilities
dissolve
into the gaping maw
of imagined destiny
still
i know exactly what this is
this need for a specific
and special kind of loneliness
i know it
like the liver spots
on the back of my hand
and it terrifies me sometimes
if not for love
i would cease to exist
m(-_-)m
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