How does one
fight invisible and seemingly impenetrable antagonists,
while stuck and sticky
with the sickeningly sweet familiarity of solitude?
No prison is
greater than those birthed in our minds
no walls
greater to scale;
with each
false word, glance, touch, or intention
the way is
lost;
for both the
seeker and those whom await discovery.
Mirrors show
naught but reflections of Despair
Poorly disguised
in its “Sunday Best”, ready to face each day
with false enthusiasm;
“This doesn’t hurt” and “Can I have more please sir?”
Reflections of
a sentence neither earned nor deserved yet dutifully endured.
Awaiting the
next life, in hopes of proving Nietzsche’s position,
that loneliness
in this life was but the cost of joy in the next.
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