Gathering my solitude around my
shoulders
Like armor
shielding myself from what I don't
know
being unseen, unheard, forgotten?
Like a shroud
burying myself in invisibility
so no one can wound me again
Long have I worn this garment, it fits
like another skin
and yet, some days, it weighs heavy,
chain mail, not silk
tight about my throat choking me like
tears that will not flow
bending my shoulders, chafing at those
still tender wounds
I steel myself to face dragons
real and imagined
Armor carefully polished, gleaming in
the sun;
Solitude now a cloak draped from my
shoulders, lifting in the breeze
Can they, will they, see me now?
Will they, can they, hear me?
- the laughter and the silent cries
Do you see me reaching, grasping, hoping?
Or will I remain here?
On my own, Alone.
