I'm never truly alone.
Even emptiness can say it has a home
Drilled into my brain without
Anywhere else to go.
Emptiness occupies the bedroom
Within the walls of my mind.
She stays up in bed unable to feel
Her own heartbeat or any other sound
In the night.
Then there is fear.
He takes up the kitchen
Pretending to be welcoming and kind.
But when all of the lights go out,
Fear can unbutton his jeans
And begin to slouch
Only to stay in this position
This is torture; a drought.
Now there is depression
Who stays in the bathroom
Floating in the water which is filled
To the brim of the tub.
She tries to disconnect her head, her thoughts
And dunks it into the water
Only to resurface, breathless
With sore pink flesh
From scrubbing her body too hard
Until there's blood.
These three are my acquaintances
And they occupy my private zones.
I can't tell if this is good or bad
But I am never truly alone.
About the Creator
LIFE MAZI
A RELIC OF GROWTH
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