Gypsy

Words tied together in a secure nautical knot

The same words I've spoken for most of my life

Different variations of those words brought people to tears,

the good kind of tears.

There was a time when people chose to come and listen to them

out of loneliness, maybe? Out of admiration, unlikely, but I would like to think so.

At that time, I was far from invisible, in fact, I seemed to be fluorescent

Rose petals were sprinkled over my yellow brick road

Loving and loved.

Off I went, across the gigantic pond

In search of a different kind of adventure and a new glow.

Silence.

Emptiness.

Bone-breaking cold.

There is so much one can say to keep on moving forward.

My mind felt sorry for me and decided to pull me inside my cocoon.

For years I avoided people.

Invisible to my neighbours and forgotten by my tribe.

Tea for one, please.

One ticket, please.

A hug for one, please.

I've been quenched a long time ago.

I sit at the bottom of this unforgiving deserted hole

with no hope of seeing that glow again.

My biggest aspiration is to someday be pulled out of the hole

just to speak what has been spared of the words I've known,

with what has remained of my tribe...and dissolve.