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Comfort

A poem.

By Spacey McGeePublished 4 years ago 1 min read
Comfort
Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash

Comfort.

Crowded rooms, social quilted blankets.

RSVP, shared space, close touch.

Communal unity, chaotic elation, industrious ambition.

We are here.

Plague.

Unbearable quiet, hardware reciprocation.

Restricted abyss, fruitless attempts, distressing exile.

Identity lost, network castoffs, internalized self.

I am alone.

Aftermath.

Cathartic actualization, contented seclusion.

Intimate accomplishment, ill-fitting extraversion, sole wonderment.

Cleansing alone, captured independence, liberated silence.

I am here.

Comfort.

Moderated assimilation, trailblazing integration.

Filtered interactions, compensated schedules, re-established black books.

Personalized integrity, newfound connections, freedom of voice.

You are here, we are here, I am here.

Comfortable.

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About the Creator

Spacey McGee

Lover of sci-fi, futurism, and strange ideas

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    Written by Spacey McGee