More Alone Poem by kharon march

Loneliness is in infliction that can't be remedied by any of the contents of ah first aid kit. For there is no band-aid that will fit across my heart and sufficiently heal wounds embedded in the flesh applied from the start. I have learned to adapt to this habitat known as alone for what can I do to cope when pain and agony is the only place I've ever known, how do I reap repercussions for seeds never sewn for plants rooted in mistakes never grown. Family is in unfamiliar concept and I begin to forget the context of why I bother anymore, did I think that continuing to try would change the inevitability of my score? I let ah stranger pour me one more, Drowning my sorrow in the contents of ah bottle praying that the ice inside my chest would evaporate and make my soul hollow. Hoping that the days that follow will be better then this next swallow of this cheap numbing agent. Believing that maybe if I'm patient the sun will brake the veil of dawn and illuminate the complacent.