Chicken noodle soup for the inner loner

May 16, 2017

Glass Bottle

Cold and lifeless I lie on a metal cart
Harsh white light beams onto my bloodless skin
The room dark and empty
Clattering of tools echoes and bounces off the brick wall
A knife slices down the length of my chest and I am open
My rib cage glistening and white
No longer able to hold in what it did before
In place of a stomach lies a bulging bottle
Glass sides cracking from the goop that lies inside
The sludgy product of emotion held in
Lumpy feelings that had formed in my throat
Swallowed down
Left to be bottled up instead of spit out
Left to bubble up and swell
And swell
And swell

Magnet of Attachment
I am an old magnet
To what I used to cling tight, I now weakly hang on
As people come and go
Putting me on and pulling me off
I become less and less attached
Avoiding clinging on something once more
Only to be torn away

Soul-y Ground

I find myself in the fleeting moments of silence
The gaps that no music can fill
When you can feel each other’s brains thinking
And pulsing
Air thick with words unsaid
The only sound becomes your hearts beating together
A slow steady rhythm that fills up what was once empty
Interlocking in a mutual knowing
The middle earth of where words end and the soul begins
A golden

Prisoner of Lonlieness

A jail cell with of four worn walls
shadows loom from within the cage
Not a breath to be felt
not a heartbeat to be heard
loneliness consumes me like a wool blanket
Its weight heavy on ontop my skin as I lie still
Handcuffed to my own isolation
The golden key glistens
lies just within reach
But I don’t want to be freed

A glass orb engulfs me
Salty blue waters dance upon my lips
Light shines through my hair in flecks
Its soft curls bounce around me, weightless
My only companion the multicolored pebbles
On the cold glass I stick my hand
Watching people buzz by
Holding hands and laughing
As I sit silently
In a world alone

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