The Loner

The Loner

You rush past me in a distorted world
with indistinct eyes and a blurry demeanor.
I don't remember your face
and you don't see mine.

I drive through infinite country roads.
Dim burrow's from destination to destination.
Cacophonous thoughts drown my senses
and I realize that I don't want to know you,

but I have no choice.
No choice, because I have made my choices.
Leaning out of the window precariously,
I see you toss your head back and laugh.

You don't feel the bitter steel of the gun on your temple.
You choose to be a simpleton and the utter inevitability of your joy weighs on me.
You smile at me.
You look into my eyes.

We hold hands and lose ourselves in the moment,
in our own different ways.
You wonder if I like you
and I wonder if I will ever be content.

You talk about your new shoes
and exquisite interiors of exclusive studio's,
while I think of village fields flickering with fireflies,
dark silhouettes on street corners and the plight the unborn fetus.
And we both smile. We both smile.

We cannot be more different, yet more alike.
I have no interest in hearing what
you have to say and you don't want
to find out what I'm not saying.

I don't want to know what you do,
but what you ache for.
Can you describe the dull pain you suffer as you smile?
I want you to tell me where it hurts and if you are fixing it.

I want to feel your passion,
be lost in the trance of your fervor.
If you were not here with me, where would you be?
If you could get anything you want, what would that mean to you?

Tell me what it was like when you were a baby.
Can I hear your prayer?
Can you show me where you buy your masks?
Give me hope against the condemned mundane.

Save me.

I contemplate the nature of my curse.
I cannot run away from you because you are everywhere I go.
In every street corner and every page of my book.
You are every man and every woman I meet.

You don't know me, and I don't like you.