Learning to be alone

I think I’m alive when I’m alone.

I guess, I could say I’m learning as I go.

Although I’m not really sure if I know what alone actually is.

I think I might know, but I can’t really be sure.

I think we know what alone is, don’t we?

Isn’t loneliness easier to find with the many?

Like I said I’m learning:

I’m learning that being heard and having someone listen is vastly different.

I’m learning that it’s okay to say no when people’s needs try to drown you out,

‘Leave me alone, Leave me alone, Leave me alone.’

I’m learning that people are disconnected from each other.

I’m learning that people are selfish.

I’m learning that I am selfish.

I’m learning that I’m defined by what I believe I deserve, either by myself or by others.

I’m learning that connecting with my audience helps me learn less about myself.

I’m learning that I’m starting to understand my own idea of loneliness.

I’m learning that being connected to others is a lot like understanding yourself,

Surrounded by branches of green,

bendy and pliable, waiting to die.

Snapped for an auburn death.

I guess the smoke is quiet after the fire. A fog of silence, faded against the backdrop of solidarity, winding its way through the gaps of those who can’t bear to be alone.


being alone is a somber thing,

                                         being alone is how we grow,

                                                                                         being alone is what connects us to others.

I learned that, I’m still learning.

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