The feeling of loneliness comforts me like a cold blanket in the day, yet bites me with a painful chill in the night. For years I have wondered, as I drift into slumber, will the next day continue as I expect? Will the painting of my life, smeared in doubts and sorrow, transform into something beautiful? These are the topics I ponder as I dream of realities yonder. My past memories parade around my mind like a colony of seagulls circling a meal. More than anything, I wish to disregard these thoughts—erase them like a file on a hard drive, as if they were never there. Alas, the mind remembers what is lost. The sense of belonging was ripped from under my feet like a cruel masquerade, and the colors in which I saw the world turned a darker shade. My routine starts to feel like a melancholy play, yet I am the only one in the audience.
Unknowingly, I must have partaken in something so wretched that the powers that be—God, gods, or Mother Nature herself—decided then and there to tear my world to pieces. In a few instances, a seemingly silver spoon crept onto my path. Yet I recoiled, uncertain if it was mercy or mockery.
Author’s Note:
This poem reflects a gloomy period in my life. However, a newfound strength came after these unpleasant feelings. Expressing what I felt so candidly, without fear of judgment or being misunderstood was really therapeutic. The name of this poem was inspired by the time I started writing it, which was 2:36AM.
Brannon Bernard Pressley | 17 | @b_ranwithit on TikTok
