deepundergroundpoetry.com
Alone
I wake up,
slowly stumble out of bed,
hobble down the stairs, and
venture into the kitchen.
I walk over to the window,
stare out at the forest behind,
instinctively knowing
I’m the only one in my house.
I am melancholy,
and the calmness envelopes me
with the knowledge that I
have once again been abandoned.
The feeling of comfort
doesn’t vanish, though.
It stays. I am used to
having no one around.
For no matter where I go,
both in my dreams,
and in my life,
I
am
always
alone.
slowly stumble out of bed,
hobble down the stairs, and
venture into the kitchen.
I walk over to the window,
stare out at the forest behind,
instinctively knowing
I’m the only one in my house.
I am melancholy,
and the calmness envelopes me
with the knowledge that I
have once again been abandoned.
The feeling of comfort
doesn’t vanish, though.
It stays. I am used to
having no one around.
For no matter where I go,
both in my dreams,
and in my life,
I
am
always
alone.
Published 14th Jun 2012
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15th Jun 2012 3:39am
15th Jun 2012 3:23pm
15th Jun 2012 3:51pm
15th Jun 2012 3:53pm
29th May 2013 9:15pm
I think after a while people get used to the pain of being abandoned. To the point that they find it a comfort. A form of masochism, perhaps?
30th May 2013 7:40pm
Anonymous
26th Nov 2013 11:36pm
<< post removed >>
7th Dec 2013 9:16pm
