I cannot… I refuse, to be alone:
And so, aloneness makes a game of me.
Drawing curtains for the sake of my
Vacant living room, dead living room,
Abandoned shoes, lost toys, discarded things,
Even the lamplight’s still, and yet somewhere
Else, I know there’s something just outside,
Outside this house, so close I cannot breathe
For it hearing me… until at once, it’s in.
The nothing in the hallway threatens me.
A silence from our room, enough to turn
My neck, lingered like someone near the stairs
And I daren’t go down there, now…
I’m not afraid of being alone: I enjoy peace, quiet and solitude. But I am eternally and utterly terrified of not being alone, after all.