Self Love

It is here that I fall.
In the midst of celebration, a time of exuberance, surrounded by others, pulls me apart.
Managed only by slipping away and shutting the door if only for a breath.
All of these words are just spirals of nothing, clogging my mind and pounding on my head.
A touch sends me sprawling like a spray of electricity.
People, their conversations, their gatherings as easy as breathing.
Modeled after family expanding without a thought.
Each friend just another catch, how easy it is to throw back.
A small conversation, the pull of a connection so easy to watch, impossible to recreate.
How many times have I wondered,
What’s wrong with me? When will I feel it, the desire for another.
It’s there that I fell.
Searching for the difference, the reason, the genetic code that somehow twisted and bent.
I make myself reach out. Going out, conversations about nothing, the small talk that I hate.
Miserable, I close myself away at night.
My head abuzz with flitting words.
In the midst of it all, I find my way back to myself, to the place I feel safe.
I fall in love with nights alone and waking up just the same.
Excepting this, I rise.

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

A very deep and intense reflective piece. I felt I was staring into a bottomless pool into which I had to plunge! The sentiments a re those every writer will relate to.