Shashank Salgam

“Distance”

Regan Doherty

It’s suffocating 

being so alone. 

Surrounded

but separate.

Within

but without.

An onlooker

who stares instead of sees: 

there’s no understanding

in this isolation.

Some cruel captivation

where one is the attraction

but neither is noticed.

Any feeling of belonging evaporated

when I realized it has always been

and will always be

their lives: my intrusion.

Their gaze: my wound.

Their music: my noise.

Their forms and figures never known –

never understood – 

let alone picked apart from the crowd.

The inescapable throbbing from sounds

that fly and marr instead of mean.

Too hard. Too fast.

Hitting where it hurts because

these wounds have festered.

This noise pains.

There is a silence to this sound. 

• Category: Painting, Poetry