And ever reliving that dark room,
You seated as if upon a throne,
I remember your words:
“Well done my son,
You have become
Independent! And worthy of pride!
Your reward is also your punishment:
If you can make it so this doesn’t stigmatise you…
You will be truly strong!”
I always thought my isolation was a weakness,
My loneliness a flaw, a thing to be shunned and ignored.
I now realise my unwillingness
And lack of social want is what I am,
My difference, my isolation:
Makes me strong.
It has become a matter of pride
That I don’t interact with what I don’t need.