All quiet. Nobody in sight.
All is busy, yet away from me.
Sitting here. Trying to build reason.
To reassure that I’m not alone,
Not the only person in existence.
It is so quiet though.
Reaching out, wanting a human presence.
To show I’m not the only person in existence.
Looking out at the window.
Wanting a change, yet the past proves me otherwise.
Alone. All quiet.
Reality, existence, barely there.
Hard to know if existence is real.
If I am looking into the cold wind,
The dark horizon.
The quiet eternal storm.