i think that
the greatest disappointment
of my adult life
has been in learning
how truly alone
each one of us really
is
you can mush flesh together
you can say beautiful words
full of promise and meaning
you can love wholly
and be loved
but even that is not enough
it is an illusion
of comfort
a fantasy we all desperately
want to buy into
that your soul’s space
can expand its territory
by purchasing land
in another body
that you can be more than
just yourself
alone
but that’s false
there is only you
and
when nights get hard
and cold and lonely
when days are wet and
clouded with a populous
that feels so strange
when you want someone to turn to
but find that no one
any longer
qualifies
for the position
you know
that in the end
there is only you
and mother can not save you
from romantic hurt
and lover can not heal you
from father hurt
and brother can not
see you for who you are
and friends are not able
to fully understand
and those who get closest
also perish
in their attempts
so in death
there is just you
and often before
sometimes for many or even
most of your years
there may just be only
you
and you’ll have to brave the
cold, often cruel world
with little to no reward
and you’ll have to overcome the
dark, crowded world
inside your own head
and you’ll have to find a way
—i suggest a hands-on hobby--
to focus all of your attention on to
to distract yourself from
the devastating reality
of the
silence
absence
and
loss
of life
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