Maurice Yvonne Poet Prose

Counting Seconds-The Rewrite

i sit lonely. 

the crowded restaurant is thick with sound 

i pick away at it 

moving back into the stagnant silence 
of my own comfort

the air is nasty here 
it telepathically abuses my thought patterns

still 
a far cry better 
the loud hum of food 
marching to the vacant crowd 
suffocates me

a decorated plate joins my table  
strikes a conversation with the cutlery 
there is no call from the governor 
as i attack my food
fork knife teeth

bites later 
a paper plane flies in 
a swipe of my plastic 
makes quick work of the bill

i exit 
seemingly quicker 
than human eyes can catch

i hate this part
i parley my way through 
too many bodies
all the while staring 
at a concrete maze 
never making eye contact 
with a single soul

i do that
i always do that
keep the entrances of my being 
away from those who would stare me down 
attempt to engage me in conversation 
with a desire to lock eyes

if they looked in they would burn 
i’d be held responsible

FINALLY

 home
the only environment i feel safe in

my therapist will be proud
almost an hour today
assuming i see her again

i am covered in my own dew
my breathing sporadic

i line up an array of pills like good soldiers 
as i continue my attempt 
survive another day

it will take hours to regain my sanity 
all the while questioning the purpose

 why must i assimilate
back into the dungeons 
they call society 

it behooves me 
find one reason
join the rank and file 
plug back into a horrendous grid 
i had escaped 

i 
grow 
weary 
of 
my 
own 
thoughts

ignore my voice

slowly regain my footing

plant roots 
hope they’ll take hold
attempt to return 
into the vacuum of my existence

i sit lonely.

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Rachel Steinmetz April 10, 2026 at 10:56 AM wow this is powerful

Lawrence Sharp August 14, 2018 at 2:53 AM Brilliant poem. Fave.

Casarah Nance August 4, 2018 at 6:43 AM you are so talented and I do enjoy it. hugs my friend.

Andrea Dietrich August 1, 2018 at 3:57 PM I can't recall if I faved the original but it's BETTER this way, Armand. This is YOU, your STYLE. FAVE!!! and a triple wow for you too, my dear friend.

Carol B. July 29, 2018 at 11:43 AM This is a masterpiece. Your writing always blows me away. A definite fav.

Aqua Marine July 28, 2018 at 9:07 AM I enjoyed both writes, but agree with Jan...LOVE LOVE LOVE this version- your individualistic style so evident in your unusual observance of aloness and loneliness...reread for the third time, and fav.

Jan Allison July 28, 2018 at 8:46 AM I LOVE LOVE LOVE the re write far more than the original, the formatting is more your usual style which is so unique, so you and a huge fave! :-) hugs jan xx

Lyric Man July 13, 2018 at 4:18 PM Maurice.. I was glued to your lines, to phrases, even particular words, I was glued to the feelings those thing conjured up in me. I was glued to what would happen next, then what should happen next. I was compelled to action, to move.. to make a difference. Then, I remembered.. this was only a story. And all this is why I say.. you should be writing novels!!!

Daniel Turner July 12, 2018 at 11:54 PM ...and in this country, if they don't have an arrest record, they can purchase a gun legally. Well written, hits hard. It's quite sad, especially knowing there are actually people walking around who feel like this, very tough subject, Armand. Well done!

Line Gauthier July 12, 2018 at 10:31 PM Wow - what a most appealing presentation. The varied lengths of the lines and the airiness of your poem is most inviting. And your message most delightful. A FAVE. Thoroughly enjoyed your poem, Armand. (BTW Armand was my father's name)

Eve Roper July 12, 2018 at 9:01 PM Beautiful imagery of loneliness , I love " plant roots hope they’ll take hold attempt to return into the vacuum of my existence" ... I truly enjoyed reading