“A Notorious Headache”

Loneliness of your own making,

your eyes are open,

and you find yourself in grips with it.

This fucking venom,

chronic and life-giving,

killing my ability to react.

Reflective, terrible,

it sits inside my chest,

and rests against my pulse.

Sometimes I can’t speak.

But I can see.

I can see the leaves,

and the way the sun dotes on them.

It’s beautiful and has its uses.

But it hurts.

Because I’m alone,

by choice, though.

Right?

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