Now Tell Me About The Happy People?

alone, despite your presence
i always feel alone, despite the fact
that i have given your parts of myself,
piece by piece, you remove
my body, and then
now, you try to snatch away my
soul, we want a union,
of all these pieces, so we will
not be alone anymore, but that is
never true, inside you
in the most intimate moment
i groaned, i wriggled, i
exploded, only to find myself
this ash, this powder
of a self, all alone again,
and so i ask you, where do you think are
the happy people now?

so they are dead?
too.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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