Solitude

Solitude

Solitude, rushing in like the sea, pushing into every space, overwhelming, changing the level of place between what can be breathed and what now lies, submerged, beneath the wave-licked ebb and flow, scant choices left of where to go.

Solitude, pours through your head like sand, weighing down whilst spreading to the lowest points it can, cascading through the fissures of your mind even as it fills your eyes, distorts your vision, leaves you paralysed, arms pinned against your sides.

Solitude like wind, rushing through once-empty caverns, shrill-screaming demons, banshee wails that rise and fall, a tinnitus of tiny pipes whistling disharmonious non-tunes, please, let it be over soon, but it cannot be curtailed.

Solitude, the walls, ceilings, floors, windows and doors closing in like a scene from Star Wars, garbage crushed, remnants of thought turned to mush, yet nothing is in reach to push away, as through some sleight they stay in place, even as they suffocate with their embrace.

Solitude, that fear like nothing else, the being left with self, behind, on the shelf, out of mind which sends you out of yours, no place to go but within, the barrier to insanity paper-thin. But even through the din, the walls weighing in, the cold crush against your skin, you know that you cannot give in.

3 March 2022