Allison Kinzy | + Follow Poet |
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.alone.

you. are not. alone.
with cavernous ceilings closing in,
the impression of depression driving in the direction
of some unreachable goal of controlled insanity
– because always in control are you –
you harp on your uniqueness, your originality,
when in fact you are one of a many,
one of a group,
something you try so hard to deny
as the blood starts staining your hands
and drip, drops on this hallowed ground.
through the watery haze of your righteous tears
your gaze fails to fall on the footprints
of another and another, walking the floor,
their lifeblood draining just as yours.
all around you they sway, scepters
of tragedies pushed away and forgotten,
long forgotten,
as you blindly flail and try not to fall
off this lonely cliff of Last Resort where
you. are not. alone.
you search and you seek 
empathy, apathy, sympathy, any “-pathy”
to ease the pain of these lost, forgotten days,
and yet you miss these hands reaching out
wanting to hold you miss these words
said only to console you miss these eyes
meant to draw you in
and all you see in those eyes is a reflection
of something you’ve tried to deny
and you continue to balance
walking the  lines of chaos, trying not to spin
out, of, control
– because always in control are you –
you try to survive on the bread and bones
 of those come before, but blind you are
to the nature of your food, blind you are
to this world you stumble through
and blame endlessly, releasing you
from the responsibility you are being punished for, and
you. are not. alone.
so dive of your platform of solitary fears
dive into this river of comfortable tears
swim alongside these ghosts of years and years
of tragedies so like yours
let them carry you away from this
cliff of Last Resort and know that
you. are not. alone.

Copyright © Allison Kinzy | Year Posted 2007

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