Surrounded by breathing things and 100 things to do.  everything strange, no one is real.  In my own space,  thoughts here, serene emptiness.

Alone for So long.

Spinning endlessly around this sun, thinking about the first day I saw my son. Planting new seeds with old pain each generation thrown to death. 

Alone for So long. 

Systemically enslaved.  Mentally starving for the potential I so eloquently locked away.  Wanting that Cosby Show life, deep rooted emotional pain. 

Alone for So long.

Socially inept.  Leading or a shadow stuck between.  No interest in just being seen. I don’t know society.  Don’t know people. I know alone.  

Alone for So long.