A movie watched by one.
Commenting on a pretty sky, to myself.
A bed holding one in slumber, never love shared upon its sheets.
A Quiet that permeates the days and the nights.
Wishing to share even if it is just a few minutes
with someone else.
Being Alone seems to have become my life.
Work is work.
Home still does not feel as it should.
Not when everyday day is spent...
being alone.
It does not feel like a transition, more like a prison.
Wondering what crime I committed to be in this place.
Most of my life now is ...alone.
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