introvert and melancholic could be a stew for depression
at times it was taken as such
I don’t want to be a tourist to my life I want to be reborn
so I choose to stop that chatter move into close quarters
and face the demons that rise in societal prescriptions
it is a hard pill to swallow but there is no other cure
I’d begun to get sick for lack of chance to sit on my own and think for a few hours
it returned to a simple act like watching raindrops chasing each other down the window pane
an eight year old cast upon unfurled tree branches above the world
in my own company I properly like only about five people
that’s remarkably enough I’ve found
I am there and it’s been such a long time since I recalled this
we’d not met in such a very long time crossing paths once again was at first a shock
the recognition did not come easily
now I can sit with me a cup of tea the flowers in the garden
sanity requires this cleaving I have newly discovered
the old insular branch of honor