solitude

once, there was a girl who, broken, left her color and joy behind, forgetting her worth.  days passed into weeks, weeks into months, months into years.  she built her walls, brick by brick, settling into solitude. gently, the world slowly wove its way back into her soul, spots of color here and there. smiles replaced the tears and she no longer mourned for what was not and what could not have been.  the years of introspection and self-examination showed her that she was enough.  enough for herself. that she was full of color.

dsc_6023

Solitude
It’s something they carry with them
                      – explorers  night shifts  seamen –
like a good pair of binoculars
or a camera case
                perfectly and deeply compartmented.
It has a quiet patina
that both absorbs and reflects
                           like a valuable instrument
                                                you have to sign for
 – contract with alone –
                     and at the end of the voyage
                                                          you get to keep.
Sometimes it’s very far away.
Sometimes so close
               at first you think the person next to you
is picking up  putting down
                                 a personal cup
                                    a book in another language
before you realise what
– when talk has moved off
                               leaning its arms
                                       on someone else’s table –
is being
handed to you.
Advertisements

Talk to me!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s