HEY! LOOK! The Sun Is In The Sky And It's On It's Own

Do not ask me if I’m lonely
I will not know how to answer.

my mum said I came out her womb, screaming
like I was wounded
until I was put in her arms.

do not ask me if I’m lonely.

writers talk about owning their own loneliness,
but I think it’s just something they say to the walls.

I get mad at time

at times
because it can’t give me any more of my childhood.

at times
all I can taste are the spaces, sore
between my broken teeth.

at times
I see old lovers under falling snow
in yellow summer dresses
looking like a warmer place to escape to.

Grandma says its amazing what we keep
in our brains, some we want, some we don’t want.

and this...
This is the darkest room inside me
I walk in, turn on the night
and watch what disappears.

do not ask me if I’m lonely.

I do not know if loneliness is an injury.

but I’m afraid to learn this poem by heart
because of what it might do to my heart.

I sit with my loneliness and we both agree
we like each other’s company
but only when we know what to do
with each other.