I'm with my thoughts

They saw me sitting alone.

They began to judge me.

They assumed I was lonely.

They believed I needed someone to talk to.

They were unaware that I was aging.

Sometimes I prefer to spend time alone.

All I wanted was for them to stop pitying me.

Sometimes I pay attention to my pains; my bones throb.

My body wants me to sit and rest.

I am not as young as I once was.

My hair no longer grows quickly.

My skin has also shrunk.

I consider myself fortunate to be alive each day.

But I know that someday,

I will perish without saying goodbye.

They must not think that I'm lonely.

I'm not alone.

I'm with my thoughts.

I'm thinking, and I'm listening to my own thoughts.