Sitting in Lonely

I realised the other day that I don’t know how to simply be,
How to sit in the pockets of silence in my life and let them bubble over,
I avoid letting the wall ebb and flow with my grief
The losses in my life,
I keep myself mentally busy so the feelings don’t catch up to,
Creeping in as dusk settles in the sky, so do my feelings of inadequacy,
If I’m always moving, running, avoiding, ignoring, burying,
Who will know? How will they know?
Yet, I can feel my resolve beginning to crack, hairline fractures on my composure,
The ever moving ink like crawl of loneliness constricting my chest,
Maybe this is how I’m supposed to feel,
Maybe I am irrevocably broken, unwanted and discarded,
That’s why I keep running.
R1- Sept 2021

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