I feel like my friends and I have been lounging away in a great bubble,
compressed to the point of mental isolation.
I need it to collapse now:
pop, pop, pop.

How can I help myself reach out of this seclusion?
Isn't it humorous, how once as children, the thought of this loneliness would stem from solitude itself.
And now, all you wish for, is to be at the bottom of a swimming pool,
among shouts and splashes, truly alone.

Hot metal purrs next to me, harsh breath cresting my skin.
I wonder if he has a name.
He shouts in color and heatwaves, desperately trying to ask for my forgiveness.
"I didn't mean to scare you,"
I see red above me.
"please come back".
Somehow I can never escape the metallic noise that seems to possess me.
Why can't I leave him?

I come home into my cozy space,
my bed is waiting for me.
I let my clothes fall, and begin.
I lay for a moment, limbs stretched out wide, embracing the air around me.
I stretch on the floor
and write out all the mess of which resides in my busy head.
I clear space to read
and wind down in the bathtub,
wash my face and give back to my body.
I'm in bed by 9 P.M.
I can rest easy knowing I'm calm, clean, and collected.
I pull the curtains closed and lay my head down,
letting my eyes relax and close on their own.
It's time to rest.

I wake up, open the white curtains,
open the blinds to let the light in.
Brush my teeth, drink a glass of water, and make tea in the clean kitchen.
I open the living room windows,
light pours in.
I make my bed and read a book while sipping from my warm cup.
I write and stretch,
then settle in to meditate on the hardwood floor.
Lavender scents fill the air, and I inhale calmly.
I am ready to start the day.

I hate that I don't know why I want to talk to you,
I don't even want you back,
not even as a friend.
We were once flying colors, never seen by the naked eye,
but over time you changed.
You changed into something I never dreamed you'd become.
Nowadays, I wonder if you regret not satisfying me.
Does that haunt you, at least a little bit?
Do you even care about me?
Did you ever, really?
You are just an eclipse in my mind now.
Nothing but a shadow in the sky.
Looming over me ever presently,
I wonder if you'll ever move on.

Day dreams about solitude, high up in the mountains.
Reading, writing, gardening,
blissful silence, yet full of the music surrounding me.
Not to be disturbed, only by the whispers of clouds and gentle birdsong outside of my window.
Rain pats down on broad leaves.
It's peaceful; I don't move.
Standing by the open door with steam from fresh brewed tea kissing my cheeks, I smile to myself, by myself.
I've never felt so warm.

Truth be told, I don't think I'll ever find my 'thing'.
I'm coming to terms with that.
There is no need for me to try and attempt a reason,
a drive, anything of the sort.
My drive and reason should be allowed to flow such as water moves:
Cycles.
There is no purpose, other than to move and do and be.
I can do anything, at any time.
There does not have to be a thing I subscribe to, because if I am honest with myself, I am bursting at the seams with movement and non-movement
and that is okay.