Sadness should never be more familiar than peace
Yet some days it is as if
Snow felted the house with only one emotion
And try as you might, the loneliness of your life envelopes
I have never found a remedy for that blue note
Striving to exorcise an unsettled icing of grief
Telling myself this too will pass
Somehow strikes false
For isolation
Looking out at the great cleave of land
Stretching as far as the eye can make out
One can say does not have to be sad
Yet if the majority of days you wake in silence
Wondering how you missed the full house
What happened to cast your dice alone?
Where from your earliest memory you shared space with emptiness
You may look at others with full lives and wonder how 
But it is a language you never learned
The discipline of togetherness or choice to be apart
Decisions made almost before birth
I carry the blood of reluctant loners
Speak the language of the professionally peripheral
None of us learned the art of heaving dinner tables or celebration
We learned to be alone from before we had known
I tried to break the Fates
Only ending further away
Now I live in a country without kin
A city without familiars
I can see myself, each year a little older 
More pinched than before, a flower dried and pressed
Flattened in her self capture
I want, I long, I desire so much 
To be known, to be among
Yet I end back here behind glass, an exhibit of one
Lost for fix, it seems, fate has her fun 
Childless, empied of possibility I feel like everything came undone
And I rolled like tumbleweed
And I gathered speed
Afraid of my life like 
Being made aware you were mad all along and everything you believed and clung on to
Was false
It is hard to be okay many times
That cold fear claims me, whispers, you are alone
The child within quakes to believe
She is still afraid of monsters
But the adult 
She no longer feels that is the worst outcome
For her, the idea of being alone
The last one
And no one notices those who are invisible
Yet still they live
As empty as a corn field
After they burn away the last dried husks 
A scorched Earth, flat and still
Enduring the ache 
Once, twice and again