I’ve been feeling pretty creatively stunted lately. So I’m going to try to get out of this word funk with a poem:
Am I Alone?
Am I alone in thinking
That Friday is a feeling more than it’s
A day of the week? Because I’ve been
Feeling like a Friday and the date is the thirteenth.
Am I alone in wondering what happens to me next?
Or does the beating in my chest decide what I do is best?
Am I truly alone in a forest when no one is around?
Or is the only time I’ll be alone is when I’m underground?
Am I alone in thinking all these thoughts with no one to hear?
Or is it thinking that estranges me and feeds on my fear?
Am I alone in all of this or is there someone just like me?
Who laughs, who screams, who weeps and writes all of this bad poetry?
Is there someone, anyone, who will help me feel at home?
Come to me, any time, and I’ll make you feel less alone.
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