flavour of loneliness

There is a particular flavour to the air when you’re lonely.
when your own scent becomes the scent
and no masking or spraying or cologning or deodorizing takes away from the fact that
it’s just you here.

where your friends who emit noise are now the fans,
the electronics that whiz as if they are operating for a household full.
the wind hitting the windows and bending those double panes
the pain of knowing your breathing is explicitly present.

you could pass out here, right here, in the openness of this room,
and no one is going to find you.
you would have to rely on the collective intelligence of every insect and disease ridden rodent
to come and lift you up and raise you safely.

but there is a freedom in this flavour of loneliness,
one that is difficult to encapsulate and discharge.
there is no shame in your own nudity, so be nude.
roll off those layers of preconditioned socialized hate and be yourself.

because ultimately, no one, not even those rodents, those gangsters of mischief,
is going to come and change this.
it’s up to you to sniff that air and savour what sweetness still lingers,
and pick yourself up off that rock bottom to escape.

july 13 2013 11:25 am