After you left
I couldn't be alone, even
in my own head.
Silence destroyed me.
Twenty-four hours
a day I bathed in noise
and distraction. I rinsed
with human stimulation.
In every scene Solitude
stood behind a door
that was slightly ajar and
he, peeping in.
Sometimes tapping on
windows or sliding
from under the dinner table,
yanking on my laces.
Solitude brought Quiet
and together they danced
on our graves to
a tuneless rhythm.
I dreaded the Abyss
where Solitude and Quiet
patiently drank tea,
waiting for my arrival.
In that place Reflection
also lived and she
was a mirror,
the image of you.
All the time i wretched
to think of Solitude, Quiet
and Reflection,
reminding me.
