Alone in the Room

 

Look at me!
they cry
waving to the music
and the laughter…
Me? 
I’m alone in a room.

The party is always in another place,
the welcome mat is never outside of my door.
My mailbox is empty,
and when I don’t open the curtains for three days
and have learned to live without the light,
no one notices.
Once in a while I find a place on the couch
near the music and the wine,
try to absorb and blend
and relax.
But when the smile starts to hurt,
and the tears threaten
to fall,
too fast and too often,
I know that I’m better off,
 back in the room,
alone.
©jayetomas2017
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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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3 Responses to Alone in the Room

  1. inkowlme says:

    Heart-wrenching, and yet familiar. I know how this feels, and I enjoyed how your words reminded me of that. Thank you.

  2. ailsacawley says:

    I had the same thing recently. I hid in a tent on a crowded, noisy beach. My only thought escape. I’m the family odd one I fear.

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