For lack of a better word,
I call her loneliness.
She creeps in on the busiest of days
when I don’t have a moment of spare
Stands boldly in front of me and forces me to stop
The cantankerous machine comes to a grounding halt
Screeching, squeaking, complaining
Yet, surprisingly, a little relieved…
I welcome the companionship she offers- like an old friend
The sadness she carries on her- like a halo
The deepness she comes with- like the ocean
The quietness she is wrapped in- like the night
But since I can’t stop for long
I allow her to sit beside me
And I crank up the machine again.