Dear solitude,
I have forsaken you
because I'm no longer
safe in you,
and safe is all I long to be.

I'd love to recoil within myself
but that only worsens my diagnosis,
That only pulls the trigger
of my metaphorical gun
until I want to hold a real one
and aim it at my clouded head.

Dear solitude,
Somedays you're the master
and I'm the slave,
recoiling until the outside
is an intruder,
But now I need the outside
to pull me out of the quicksand.

Solitude, you can't always be
my cheatsheet to pass the test,
Sometimes to win, I need to expose
all the skeletons I've tucked away
in your locker.

Solitude,
You were my morphine
but now my morphine has
brown eyes,
a face-lighting smile,
a heartbeat,
and arms I can crash into
whenever you hunt me down.