A Conversation with Solitude

Sweet solitude, I wish to conquer thee,
For oft I fill my heart with sin when thou
Art near.
Your silence makes me nervous; I fail
To comprehend your wordless ways...
But it is
Not you I fear...
I've lost my maid--a sweet
Reflection of l'essentiel Féminin.
(Now I spend my days in a television trance--a mere
vegetable life).
And yet I eat no veggies--
My diet is deficient... Oh god oh god
Oh god I fear I've lost my mind--a sweet
Reflection of Beauty's form is now perverted
By sloth and masturbation...

Sweet solitude, it is not you I fear...
For you are welcoming and calm. For you
I should not pour my poppy tea and drop
My trousers but rather welcome thee inside
For some Darjeeling, biscuits, and a book.