You’re wondering if I’m lonely.
Okay, then, yes.
I’m lonely
Like a plane full of strangers all with headphones in,
Seen from the ground as a
Fast vanishing light, here and then not
I’m lonely like a woman driving across the country,
Day after day,
Throwing away mile after mile,
Forgetting to drink the coffee she bought in
Towns that she might have stopped in,
Lived and grown old and died in
Am I lonely?
Sure, the loneliness of walking a city in the early morning in winter
The streetlights stretching your shadows into crowds of acquaintances
Stumbling over each other to whisper their own inane advice
Alone when I wake to a house still asleep and I move too quietly even though
I’m the only one there, afraid to disturb the solitude snoozing in the attic
I drink my tea and watch the cars
Lonely
randomness