We’re most certainly not on the same page,
your flailing and erratic disproportion,
is no mantle for a man,
View this post on Instagram
Alone is still the best Especially when it feels like you're being chewed on, and I'm no morsel for fetishes, not especially for men of ingratitude, nor women of lust. W.E. #lifesaver @morning.owl this arvo #poetry #writing #psychology #quotes #writersofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #writerscommunity #write #writer #spilledink #consciousness #words #prose #lonelyplanet #people #igwriters #goaway #alone #espresso #introverts #poet #poem #poetrycommunity #introvert #quiet #poets #coffee #philosophy
Alone is still the best
Especially when it feels like you’re being chewed on,
and I’m no morsel for fetishes,
not especially for men of ingratitude,
nor women of lust.
#lifesaver @morning.owl this arvo
I didn’t plan this, but I wish I had.
If I had, then I could have arrived much earlier.
Many a breath would I have saved,
many a wasted heart beat,
a dry mouth.
Perhaps I could have not wrestled with so many souls,
with so many egos,
with my own ego.
One of the greatest changes,
I have ever experienced,
is feeling the urge to answer everything,
to not wanting to answer a soul
Perhaps finding You,
means tasting everything that isn’t You,
Your largesse, although not never in need,
is only experienced through my faculty,
by what minuscule it comprehends.
Being alone is only quietude to the outer world.
In reality there is nothing quiet about being alone.
Your mind is amplified, and the cacophony of noise is deafening.
Your soul begins to speak to your heart and the conversation is loud and outrageous.
The difference is, you choose the music, the setting, the volume and intensity.
If people who are outwardly loud knew the inside of us, they’d flee in terror.
-Wesam El dahabi
Irrespective of natural predisposition to introversion,
for some of us, it becomes a conscious choice.
Unbound by what nature wants,
we forge our way inwards past its reservations for us,
to kingdoms of our own accord.
The folly is not on one who lives there,
imaginary as it may be,
but for the one who hasn’t the conceivability,
who hasn’t the will.
Living in the past is depression,
in the future; anxiety,
in the immediacy of satiation,
You assume fulfilment,
and forget it causes mediocrity.
You question your predicament,
and envy the comfort of others.
Where is your recognition,
of all the lowly and base things?
spat with ingratitude,
have become shackles around your ankles.
Had God willed, he would give you in your entirety to the world and you could not contain your condition, and beg for pardon to be returned to being a recluse.
Don’t assume your condition is bad for you, it could be that it is saving you from worse.