Autophobia
What do you call your apparent
isolation —like a hummingbird having
the feeder all to herself
until eternity
or like a soldier dislocated
lost in the jungle
desperately needing
company
even after being found & rescued
now so desperately alone
in the bustling makeshift hospital
at the ballgame
your mind wanders onto the field
your body remaining
in the bleachers
where you believe nobody sees you
when home alone
you pray for the rain to come down
relentlessly
like nails pounding into concrete
drowning out the very idea
someone is attempting to make contact
december two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Love this.
That’s wonderful, thank you.