How to live alone
I do not exactly know
What it means to be perfectly alone.
On average,
My love for human beings may have lowered, yes,
As has my need for friends, family, anybody really.
Even the virtual world's tabs have been shut,
Temporarily.
Indefinitely.
I miss noone, nothing, am seemingly content
With a pen and paper
A pleasant breeze
The pitter-patter on the roof.
Is there really more to life
Than the few things that really count?
I suppose not.
Nobody else invited, or allowed,
To the party inside your head.
Art by Esthera Preda
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