The lonely.

by Poet on the Piano   Dec 28, 2021

The lonely creeps in just past noon,
blanketing the ground with a
dull white that is far from the
effervescent shade of magic.

It outlines every branch and limb
I've neglected to reach out with.

It looks and feels and sounds
~ light ~
but the lonely is heavy,
the kind of heavy that insulated
boots couldn't stride through.

I watch cars slip and slide
as my breath hitches,
panic sets in, and I realize
how unsafe I feel inside.

The lonely doesn't dazzle
or waste time tricking me
with wonder-set eyes;
it takes my breath away
and doesn't return the
steadiness of life it has stolen.

And I know,
no matter the forecast,
it will always try to sneak in
when I am the least prepared.


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