time spent in loneliness,
creates its own drowning pool,
treading apprehensions,
until fatigue registers itself.
the preoccupation with lonely
is it own demise.
lonely in a crowd
makes itself less evident,
but not less real in my eyes.
queuing on others
is no substitute for my self-presence.
others as fulfilling in that light,
are only a distraction of worth.
if I am just audience
without self-residence intact,
then I am my own gatekeeper.
but where is my garden?
at least I can discern
these attributes in others,
that I persist in claiming,
that I am missing but in need.
opposites-attract is a long way
around the self-mountain.
like-attracts-like is just too direct
of a self approach.
I would more easily dumb-down
than radically face-up.
bonding out of need
seems to be my calling,
but eventually it is very tacky
and laborious with up-keep deeds.
my loneliness is an inward calling,
but yet discreet listening under the blare.
is this self-love with acute hearing?
don't want to be deaf to myself.
loneliness is a soft knock
on my self-acceptance door . . .
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