the thoughts
bounce off of the
impossible corners
of my brain
echoing back in
a feedback loop
of distorted cries
until a wall of
unbridled fury
pummels dream into
a fine slurry
and i am left gasping
as the rain falls
yet i cannot seem
to differentiate
the sorrow from
the reverberations
of my own hellish
misguided intent
so many people
suffer alone
the self induced
agonies multiply
and the loneliness
latches on to feed
these insipid thoughts
we feel no one else
could possibly
understand it
pain is universal
we’re just so
solipsistic
there appears
to be no escape
you’re never
truly alone
despite
how it makes
you feel
it needs you
to feel isolated
that way
you’ll continue
to feed it
and feed it
you most certainly
will if you don’t
breathe and
let those that
love you in
even when you
cannot trust yourself
you can trust in them
to guide you home
even the best captain
needs a navigator
when the storms come down
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
“even when you
cannot trust yourself
you can trust in them
to guide you home” ❤️
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it’s all we can do somedays
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Yes, and who knows? It could be true! One of the things that nearly killed me was the Smoke Man (the “it” in your poem, perhaps) telling me no one cared, life was ending so I may as well get it over with. So, I tried (failed yay). It felt like a real being, this Smoke Man, an oily, rancid, choking thing that stripped all my feelings, good or bad. Except for despair. I felt that. When I focused on what was wrong, I felt nauseous. So I used pretty much everything to distract myself and push it away. Biologically, it was misfiring wires in my brain creating clinical depression. Even after my brain healed, I sometimes felt that presence. Pretty sure it came from the abyss we’re not supposed to stare into. Or, solipsistically, maybe from the abyss in me. It is a fascinating subject.
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I’m glad you found yourself again. I’ve been lost a few times.
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Guessing that’s (some of) the fuel for your creativity.
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This is gorgeous. Oh, I love this. I had to look up “solipsistic” though. “Relating to Solipsism” didn’t help either but I finally found the definition: “noun Philosophy The theory that the self is the only thing that can be known and verified.” Did you ever read the story The Egg? by Andy Weir? My friend Zilong told me to read it after he read my poem Entangled Infinity. I won’t spoil it for you. This took a lifetime to figure out. I think as Rumi says, life isn’t so much about learning but about un-learning. Removing veils between us and the truth. “This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.”
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I have read The Egg. I find solipsism fascinating because there is a little truth to it. We can never be certain how someone else feels or sees things. All we know for certain is ourselves. 7 billion galaxies on this planet. All together yet feeling alone.
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