5.1.15

I am alone.
The air presses down heavy on my back.
Different bed,
I’m more used to this than my own now.
Home feels strange
but nothing feels home like my head on your chest.

We are all alone
but I am incapable
of setting aside my
constant “connection”.

I am so within myself
and without, looking in
I can never see through your eyes
and I never looked.

we are fundamentally connected
but functionally alone.

I am alone.

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Welcome…

This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x

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