I know a friend who lived alone
who said it was the worst at first
it was his first time just being solus.
I think that I couldn’t do that now
Alone is preferable but how to be alone?
The world is already so cold
and as time turns, I get old
without much to say for it except
most people have somebody and yet
loneliness, I used to call it my friend
now it’s my enemy with a cruel bent.
I’ve lost all my friends
maybe I never had any, maybe I had 10
and it’s easy to cut the connection
but hard to look back, then again.
And again, and again
you’re the voice that talks back, my mind pen.
But they don’t want me to say drug
connotations spin the globe, I coldly shrug.
What can I say? My vocab flow short-circuits
when I look at you who paste & glue argots
of trendy repetition into your dialogue
without a thought of your hypocritical fog.
If I say it too loud you say I have issues
but you keep me in a chokehold
if I say it too softly you don’t even hear me
it’s a win win…for you
thunderbolts freeze in the middle of the sky
but I still choose to stand under the rain,
just so they can call me insane.
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