Isolate

Isolate

Willing to do nothing

in small rooms,

not thinking much

of daffodils or daisies;

pocket money

less the pockets.

Picking the dust  

form the bottom

of an ink well,

writing names and initials

in broken cursive,

some I remember.

Some I remember I forgot.

Pushing thumbtacks 

in my sole,

or in my soul,

gravitating without the gravity

to the center of me,

or what used to be me anyway.

And the voices outside

scare me a little

scar me a little more,

I wish they would go away,

I could go away.

To a field of snapdragons

and  lilies,

put my head to the stone

and quietly

slip away.

Reviews

[Axolotl1]

Beautiful, well written. "To a field of snapdragons
and lilies" I like this line. :))