Being Alone

Being alone sucks ass: bigtime.
Being all one is a spiritual high
And I guess I know I’m using
Pretending all the time . . .

These layers of ambiguity
Under, before and within
Joy.


It springs forth, un~detered
when met in loneliness
Hold my own hand.


No longer it’s, but everyone else.
That is my job as a human to reach
Across the gulf of personal suffering,
mingle it gently, violently

raise it too our lips
this bitter cup made sweet
in sanctification, of knowing
if we suffer so must god,

And then, in shock, I know
that for a moment, or too many
to recall, I am loved, and have loved
and that's the only thing that matters.