Solitude

Solitude helps me find shelter in pain
the inspiration comes as a form of retaliation
against the incertitude's of the heart
interludes of inter winding moments.
Words only write themselves if there's suffering to be had;
ageless solitude is immortal
like ghosts of loves past.

Love in the time of cholera
Love in the time of aids
uncertain loves in the times that I live
I roam the Earth without being part of it
only certain of my own existence
in any given moment, time or place
I live where I don't belong and yet I don't belong where I live.

Solitude has bonded with what is left of me
scrapping together the remains of my soul
becoming one with my bones,
like a mortal disease
and yet it's bitterness taste better
than any sweets
I wouldn't trade it for anything that breathes
anything that touches the Earth,
anything that sees the Sun.

My notepad becomes engulfed with it's aroma
and it's aura scape's through my pores
this pen is a sword stained with my revenge
there is nothing I wouldn't dare to say
if my heart is ravaged with pain
painted with it's disdain
repossessing my very being
that it wouldn't dare to lose;
Solitude feeds my spirit better than any muse.

Anything that ever needed to be said or written
has already found a way to see the light day
Solitude finds a way to re-arrange the alphabet
when words are scarce,
when nothing comes my way
I will take these scribes
when my flesh only knows darkness
not seen by the sun, but in one with the Earth.