Loneliness is cold
A chilling frost
Forbidding atmosphere
That arrives upon me as
Subtle as blades
Heavy as crushing gravity
And uninviting as
The betrayal of a knife in the back
Taking over
The comfort of belonging
Ripping away my serenity
Into the depths of denied warmth.
Shivering in black ripples
I turn up my collar
Roll down my thoughts
Against its prevailing wind
Hoping to find shelter
Instead finding voices
In a night of long knives
Slowly slicing away
At my dilapidated skin
Opening my insecurities
Drowning my desires
For the company of a friendly soul.
This unbearable misery
A nightmare of
Invisible inclement weather
Showers a sinister unease
Drenching my joy
Until I raise
My eyes and voice
In a vertical direction
Beneath this burden
Calling out to you
The silent love
Surrounding my sadness
In the rays of your morning sun.
Copyright © 2022 Charles Edward York
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