Solitude

Where is the beauty of solitude

That the hermits talk about?

The virginal maiden of the hills

With her perfumed hair 

And light gait

Her charming smile

With a song on her lips.

Solitude for me 

Is a grotesque sea creature-

With bloody fangs

And sagging skin

Body covered in blisters and pus

Groaning a dying cry

Haunting me for life.

I keep wishing to learn to love her,

But she scares me.

I keep trying to fill the room 

Between her and me 

With people who do not care about me.

What is my fear?

That I will learn a little more

about myself in her company 

And not like what I discover?