Going home again
to aching loneliness:
solitary silent shame
No greeting at the door
A real questing for character
without external reinforcement
No approval but my own
No restrictions here alone
The question of self left
undefined by the future
unrefined in the present
undesigned from the past
Internally inflicted inquisition
leaving behind uncertainty
wobbling and lurching
dimly toward the unexpected
hopefully into some light
recursively beginning to end
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