Wrapped up inside, entangled,
I become scared
of thoughts and feelings of long ago
of things that I once shared.
Yet I long to feel the someone
that was always there,
and hear the echoing of things
of which only I am deeply aware.
I also love those sounds
when I know they could be you,
but I love to be alone; is this a time
I’m coming to?
When I reach beside a space
to almost find it gone,
I’m so deep inside the emptiness
it’s already like being alone.
Sometimes I feel I am touched by you
so I can’t ever really be,
But alone I find is something
I fuel all too readily,
So I savour every mood,
ponder every churn,
and every thought I ever knew,
’til it makes no sense to yearn.
I study every sparkle until
they’re dampened by the dawn,
and like them my emotions are
scattered far and wide and drawn,
and become so irretrievable
making it much too late for how –
Far too late to question them,
they’re so out of reach by now.
Contemplation makes me ask
who I am and who you were –
you’re now the fog that haunts my brain –
until you become a blur.
As I wonder where you are
and if I can I come to you at last,
I search again for your presence
among still memories from my past.
Lonliness won’t make me sad
and solitude’s warm air make me dizzy,
being alone along side my thoughts,
means I can dance with fantasy.
So I wrap myself in cold comfort,
perch my feelings on the shelf,
alone with the dust that time allows,
gathering blankets around myself,
whilst you hover barely on the outside
as the inside is barely whole,
I don’t know why I secrete myself still
From a ghost who knocks my soul.