breadcrumbs are for the birds

I don’t like being alone
    yet I don’t like being in a crowd

       I’ve adapted to loneliness
           now it’s second nature
              is it wise
                   did I have a choice

                             How exactly
                         does introspection
                               present itself

                       How else does one mend
                           fences in themselves
                                 they’ve broken?

                       Who do people announce to
              time & again their own staggering

Their epiphanies/their rebirth?

                            Who then
                                 besides them
                                      gives acknowledgement?


4 thoughts on “breadcrumbs are for the birds

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