Dark Room Person

By Stephan Anstey

aloneYou think I am very social,
but I am alone in a dark room
lined with bookful bookshelves
telling myself nothing
matters more than pain
healed and love
lost. Alone is the best
way to search
for an approximation
of me. The real me
was destroyed in a bad dream
on Mulberry Lane. Bloody
and unforgiving on a winter night
the best of me was murdered
and the rest of me cried on.
I speak now to strangers
together aloneI call them friends
they call me friend
we speak as if facts are truth,
when I know the truest truths
are unspeakable and unbearable
and can not be shared.
Even when we sit together
I smile, I know we are both alone.

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