I’m told I was a twin in the womb,
And that is why my life is twice as lonely.
But sometimes it’s like
A different pair of eyes stare through mine
And my head is too small for all of its thoughts.
I hear her breathe, softly, from the chair I am sitting in.
Time passes, but we are still next door neighbors,
of limited use to each other, all hues and no gradients.
We are one note, the both of us, but it is only I that seeks harmony.
I call to her, but she may not hear. I feel her approach though,
a tsunami in the guise of the tide. My feet submerge,
and my lungs flood.
Somedays, her door is open. I am afraid, but I will enter.
It is but a blink, a walk through a wall of water,
And then there is a stranger in my house.
Nov 11, 2022
Nov 11, 2022 at 11:03 PM UTC
I’m told I was a twin in the womb,
And that is why my life is twice as lonely.
But sometimes it’s like
A different pair of eyes stare through mine
And my head is too small for all of its thoughts.
I hear her breathe, softly, from the chair I am sitting in.
Time passes, but we are still next door neighbors,
of limited use to each other, all hues and no gradients.
We are one note, the both of us, but it is only I that seeks harmony.
I call to her, but she may not hear. I feel her approach though,
a tsunami in the guise of the tide. My feet submerge,
and my lungs flood.
Somedays, her door is open. I am afraid, but I will enter.
It is but a blink, a walk through a wall of water,
And then there is a stranger in my house.
