in my darkest hour
thoughts, though random, sense made
the brooding man sleeps alone
no shelter from the cold of wind
what spurs me on
I have walked aimlessly for months
compounded on one another like interest
turning into lifetimes of worthlessness
stock to be sold immediately
harvest to be burned instantaneously
love to be buried as though it never existed
at times I find myself in lonely places
in the midst of a crowd
surrounded by friends and family
I tune them out
but in so doing, I tune out myself
my father once told me
the greatest thing I could accomplish in life
was the sowing of my oats
I have no desire to do such a thing
instead, I desire to further explore
the limits of my solitude
to bask in it
to owe no one, to have no debts
to save my feelings in the bank of me
and let the interest compound
at times I find myself in lonely places
at a stadium or a concert
surrounded by strangers
yelling and thrashing about
they don't know, but I've caught a glimpse
of their very soul
at that moment, precise and to the point
I know who they are
but I will never yell or thrash about
regardless of a win or loss
or pure enjoyment or disdain from performance
I thrive in the land of forced mystery
a slave to the carcass of who I was meant to be
one night though, cold in September,
I recall a realization that haunts me to this day
that I have no roots anywhere
I am a floating vessel in a very large sea
days before my Great Depression
weeks before my Great Crisis
I will cash out
and leave everyone behind.