Sometimes.

A departure for me.

Stop. The chill is rolling in.

Wait. Just allow it to be.

No. I’ve no need of anything.

Please: Walk away from me.

I know you don’t understand.

You know I’m lost as well.

It’s just the way things are.

It’s private, my suite in Hell.

Go. This is not about you.

Quiet. I cannot hear my breath.

Don’t. I do not need your help.

Leave. I’m not quite done yet.

It’s unlike me to say such things.

Strange to leave the lights turned down.

No, I’m not tired, just craving sleep.

I’m far too weary to hear a sound.

Move. Don’t block my way out.

Run. Not wise to stay the night.

Quit. You cannot help me here.

Retreat. You do not want this fight.

Sometimes I need only me.

Some nights I cannot suffer touch.

Some places only I can go.

Some days you love me far too much.

Reviews

[Vivian Fisk]

Oh, Randolph, this is f*****g perfect. I'm assuming the words that begin the lines in stanzas 1, 3, and 5 are to be taken as additional messages. They read:
Stop. Wait. No. Please.
Go. Quiet. Don't. Leave.
Move. Run. Quit. Retreat.

With this additional subtext I read a disguised ambivalence that finally says yes, get the hell out of here, gentled down with Sometimes, Some nights, Some places, and Some days.

Of this is not genius I must look for a situation at Goodwill. Let me know.

[Randolph]

It was meant to be the nuance of the endless, lost, and ever patient love. You know...That F****r who just doesn't know when to quit. The one that will always matter.