In my goings, I have much
shied away from the light, away from
sight, away from opinion. I did
rather they thought nothing of me
at all than something foul —
as if I didn't exist at all, never
walked before them that they could
form the negative conjecture.
I enjoyed the crowds, where I could hide,
where my face was faceless, where
I was lost in the masses. And too,
aloneness has been my home,
to be a solitary wanderer, an urban
hermit. But there does come time
when one seeks out life: where
one needs that some else one
cares. There is much pain in our
existence, and one needs hear,
"There, there," that elsewhile you
have suffered, another has felt that pain,
too. I have much crawled into
my own corner of this universe, but
sometimes — sometimes, I have to
turn around, and look: the world
has many such corners, and
many such as I, who have been so
very solitary, scarce remembering
the sunlight, afloat in a limbo,
forgetting... how to matter.
