(for those who are like myself – you are not
alone)
In a chat room full of creatures
Isolated in your secret of reality
You look from each to another
And wonder if any are like you.
Are they really here…
Or do they just make believe?
You view the list of faceless names,
Their profiles with pictures…
Written things that mean nothing
To your search.
Refusing to copulate on a whim,
You stand quietly aside watching
Branded a loner and worse;
Though your loneliness is overwhelming,
Alone… so alone.
They do not understand.
You see things clearly,
You feel every touch on your body,
You even smell the foul scent
Of the marked places.
To you this place of chat is very real.
Painful things hurt…
Pleasurable things are pleasant.
You are different from the rest.
In this cartoon world of
Pretend bodies and Word Troll text
Sight, scent, sound, and touch
Exist four dimensionally for you.
More from reflex you again sample the air.
Cigarette smoke and stale beer,
Body odor and cheap perfume,
False heat and marked areas;
Yet there is the scent of another.
The smell is real though faint.
Excitement gives life to your actions
And you emerge from the shadows.
You are noticed again;
Pinched, groped and probed
By those previously examined
And dismissed…
Those found to be false.
You push to the middle of the room
Frantically searching
But… the scent is gone
Like a whisper in a loud room.
It’s gone – it’s gone – it’s
gone –
Your disappointment is not hidden;
And you are made fun of
By those who enjoy
Another’s broken heart.
Comes a light touch on the shoulder.
You turn and your body feels
The warm soft skin
Of an embrace not expected.
The scent…
Strong and aromatic
Is overpoweringly narcotic.
The noise of the room fades
And you find yourself in the arms
Of another… just like yourself.
We do exist
We are real
As is this not so pretend place
We call home.
Vixyy Fox
2006
