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Poetry, Writing

OUTSIDE

TODAY I STOOD ALONE.
OUTSIDE OF EVERYTHING,
ON A NEVER ENDING PLANE OF BLUE.

ALONE, BUT WITHOUT LONELINESS.
SEPARATE, BUT WITHOUT ISOLATION.
UNFEELING, BUT WITHOUT EMPTINESS.

FROM THE OUTSIDE,
I COULD SEE EVERYTHING AS IT IS.
WITHOUT BEING A PART OF IT.

WITHOUT LOVE.
WITHOUT FEAR.
WITHOUT EMOTION.
WITHOUT DESIRE.

AND I WONDERED, DOES BEING OUTSIDE MAKE ME GREATER?
AM I LIKE A GOD BECAUSE I CAN SEE THIS NOTHEVERYTHING?
AM I GREATER BECAUSE I DO NOT FEEL?

A LOG ON THE SHORE OF THE OCEAN OF LIFE IS NOT PART OF IT.
IT FEELS NOTHING BUT PERHAPS A VAGUE CURIOSITY,
A WONDER. WOULD IT BE BETTER TO BE ON THE OCEAN THAN OUTSIDE OF IT,
TO RIDE THE WAVES OF TROUBLE AND FEAR,
TO RISE WITH SWELLS OF EMOTION,
OR TO LIE ON THE GRAY BEACH OF INDIFFERENCE?

WAS I GREATER THAN THOSE TORTURED TWIGS TWISTED AND TANGLED IN THE ALGAE,
OR LESSER THAN THE SHELL THAT SITS IN THE OCEAN DEPTHS?
BECAUSE I WAS NOT A PART OF THE WORLD,
BECAUSE I DID NOT LET IT AFFECT ME.

EVEN ANGELS HAVE PITY.

LIVING IN THIS LAND OF QUIET,
STANDING OUTSIDE OF LIFE AND LOVE.
A FITTING WORLD PERHAPS FOR THE DEAD.
A SAD FATE FOR THE LIVING.

BUT TO BE OUTSIDE OF LIFE IS TO BE FREE FROM DESIRE,
AND WITHOUT DESIRE THERE IS NOTHING TO SPUR A DECISION.
I SAT ON THE BEACH ALONE WONDERING IF I WOULD STAY FOREVER,
UNTIL I WAS SAVED BY THE SMALLEST OF SMILES.

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About rozzychan

Rosalyn Hunter is the principal writer on the series Lunatics. Please support us. http://lunatics.tv

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