IF
It astounds me how alone one person can feel,
As if my overall being is consumed with it.
Pores oozing it.
Disgusting all possible friendships & love affairs with its stench.
A cloud of bitterness tracked by vultures of fear and anguish.
Distracting myself with chasing the dream.
Head down running.
Blood pumping, perspiring.
Grasping goals.
Because maybe when I'm there they'll see.
When I'm where I want to be they'll see.
But that hunger.
That drive.
That distraction.
Only begets more odor.
Alone but chasing.
Because one day you'll see.
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