Hearing My Story

I was told it would happen,
I didn't think it would happen
until the night it did happen.

I heard my story, my emotions.
How did she find the map to my
disconnected island,
my meaningless, insignificant smudge of land -
my heart?

I didn't think it would happen
until the night it did happen.
There sits another with the same
suffocating isolation and self condemnation that inhabits me.

How could this be?
How do those of us who dwell alone -
severed even from spirit,
essential humanity - 

How do we find peace when we punish, sabotage and destroy ourselves?

Maybe - 
Peace can find us when
we share our pain,
our feast, our famine.
Share the chaos and annihilation wrought by self identified wrongness.
Honesty threads us together,
changes our islands into continents,
our terminal uniqueness into sustaining friendship
AND
our disease into recovery.