solitude

I choose

  the wound
            is final
              concrete

                                     (beyond recall)

             disrupted
                   deep fissure
                        —split the core

                  ruptured
      too many times
 in too many ways

                                    —decaying
                     fragments stuck
                  in the dead-end
                   flux

                               in between
                             attraction
                           retraction

                                                 (there is)

               not enough
            room
          to breathe

                            instable
                           incoherent

               sinking
      into ambiguity

       the fundament
          built on
             flowing ground

                                           —corrodes

              blank sand
      running
                through the hourglass

                                 —into a
                                bleak void

      a replica

                               (of whose image?)

          fragile
                                       flickering
              through translucent
                                                vitriol

                 slowly
          fading

                    —to insignificance

    washed-out colors

                numbed
                   by the need
                           to belong

     lethargic
           beyond
                indifference

       I cut myself
            out of
       dissociation

                    to peel off
                          thick layers
                              of expectations

 (the fear of not meeting them)

       I no longer care
          (that I don’t)

                      solitude
                 isn’t loneliness
                         it’s freedom

                —I choose

Sometimes realizing that the ones, who should accept you for who you are, don’t and will never do, pulls the ground under your feet. Especially when it’s the ones you call family.
I experienced this from the beginning. It shaped my view of myself and the world.
It numbed a part of me.
I’ve learned to not give a fuck about other‘s opinions or expectations.
At least that’s what I tell myself.