Looking away: A poem 

You could take me through the valley, 

but I insist, to myself, it is not up my alley 

I still feel roomless under the skies 

unwarmed by the summer sun; my limbs loose, 

floating up the street, in search of something 

that is not you, though you plead you can be 

of help. I hear my ghosts in the distance 

behind your voice. You are disappointed 

by rejection. I didn’t mean to tear you down 

with my nonchalance. To me, this is not 

foreign wine. I remind myself of what is mine 

Its silence has lasted a lifetime and more 

in my soul. It keeps me from distancing myself 

from my loneliness, however painful, 

in a struggle to be who I am…. 

and have what I want