mychaelalchemy

now, I am seen as a whiner for voicing
how I feel
when others whine or complain or make self-remarks
I am empathetic
I don’t understand why others aren’t

not long ago I attended a pagan retreat
as I have for the past nine years
I try to decide what has changed, the atmosphere
or me
I find myself a stranger among my own kind,
it is unsettling

I seemed to have lost the appeal, along with my looks,
to be inviting for others to make my friendship theirs
I think back, way back to my youthful days, I had many friends,
but they vanished, so I believed it was my doing,
it must be, I am still alone….

I lost my vision of ever returning again to the retreat,
a place where I felt comfortable and attuned
but, somehow it lost the sacrality of it for me
I have, in ways, begun to settle on being solitary
even coming to enjoy my solitude until
I get restless for good company
I formed a feeling of discovering a distaste
for whimsy as many of them seem to follow
on the surface they may seem alive, but,
I see them as dead, I see myself as a ghost or a haunt
without much contact between them and me

separate planes

I once put it down to having come from somewhere else,
of being an alien on this planet, sensing just how different and distant I am from others
I am sane enough to realize it is all my perception, of course,
I feel like a rock covered in moss, you see the moss, but not the stone
anymore
I am a dejected atom loose in some crazy orbit around something unseen
my thoughts grow, but they are mere molecules,
colliding asteroids of senseless crossing paths
maybe it is a sacrifice, maybe a blessing
less an explosion, more of an implosion

depression

each person exists in stories of chance collisions
attraction,gravity, compulsion, back to disorder again