Loneliness

Loneliness comes around

where no one is to be found.

It really doesn’t hurt.

Only when my mind is empty and inert,

am I reminded of the disconcert.

An ode to the bathroom.

I spent my childhood looking over my shoulder,

growing stiffer and colder,

afraid of my fragile soul being demeaned;

I would have rather no one intervened.

But, my bedroom was never a safe haven away from prying eyes and concerned looks

So whenever I was craving

a peaceful, private nook

To the bathroom I would spring,

my place to be understood.