James Wilson Poetry

There I stood atop that mountain In the dead of night where the silence thick enough to cut with a knife Grass wet as I lie there and mentally dissect my mentality Knowing that at the end of this One side of me would need not coexist So one side…

I can still remember the days when I reveled in isolation When my introverted demeanor caused me to sub exist below humanity with a self-manufactured sanity I only felt safe when I was alone Come and gone are the days when I locked myself into a self-sufficient, independent reliance Solitaire…