The word I thought
I never dreaded hearing
Alone. Alone. Alone.
As no one simply heard me
Or believe my story
The look on their faces
The whispers behind my back
The stopping of talk
When I entered the room
The nonchalant use of the word or
avoidance of the terminology ( mentally ill)
use to describe the incident
As if it wasn’t of nature
Something they never had dealt with
Treating you like a child
Like you don’t know how to deal
Like you were learning how to
Tie your shoes for the first time
Alone is all I felt
As I sat in a house full of loved ones
Alone and disconnected
Thinking of how things got this way
Too much of what was never said
Too much of what was never done
Too much, just too much
Wondering what is yet now to become of me?
How will life unfold from here?
Where does the river flow?
Will It turn into sea or
Circle back around the riverbend?
Alone at 25 feeling like 85
With no will to die or expire