Times itself

One may find themselves

screaming

from the inside out

LEAVE ME ALONE

and it becomes about

the other

but it never was.

Anyway we attempt to shrug it off

and shirk the cloak of

personability,

it falls with a heavy

THUD. 

By the way-

you were not your own

To be ALONE with

any more than anyone else here weighted down,

and plodding along, prodded on, and prattling on…

It is this nauseousness that makes

mouths salivate for solitude

amidst the stench of obligation,

shit hits the fan,

demanding more

than

a breezy greeting, acknowledgment in

passing as in aloof or aloft and 

above it, over it, 

all over one

that never was. 





Painting by Charles Sprague Pearce, c. 1889 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.