i was never good at being alone,
but i always managed to make myself
lonely, even among the chanting crowds

i drew every line that
differentiated me from
everyone else.
i convinced myself that
i was satisfied with loneliness,
but i wonder how much of that
comes from an acquired ability
to thrive of off unchosen
loneliness;
to what extent it might be
a form of contentment
built on a bedrock of
resignation