All the Notes I'll Never Leave

Only Child- A Slam Poem

I never realized that my love for stuffed animals was born out of a fear-
Constant and consistent-
Of being alone-
Of coming home to a room that holds no love for me
And a bed that is two times too big.
I am terrified of surpluses of silverware and a few too many chairs about a table.
An empty room just becomes an empty- echoing- aching reminder that
YES- I AM ALONE.
As an only child I grew to expect this.
I groomed myself with habits that would allow for the loneliness-
Even coexist with it-
Feed off it.
I grew used to the silence-
Even as I tried to fill it in any way possible-
With song-
Television-
Hobbies upon hobbies-
I tried to hide the silence-
And it became a race to see if I could bury the silence before it buried me.
But silence-
Is terribly fast-
And it cheats as well-
It creeps through seconds between songs-
And seeps from the stoic ticking of every clock-
It surrounds you as you attempt to cover it.
I have never won this race.
I fear
I never will.